Zorro 24
by Frapper
Summary: Story following the format of the "24" TV series. Each chapter equals 1 hour of a very intense day for Zorro, when his father gets kidnapped due to an unexpected inheritance. This story contains all the 15 requirements of the Zorro 100th Anniversary Challenge.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: this story is based on the NWZ series. It is a non-profit project intent for entertainment purposes only. All copyrights on the characters belong to Zorro Productions Inc. except the new originals created by me, i.e **_**Raúl Álvarez.**_

**It follows the format of the "24" TV series, each chapter equals one hour of a very intense day for Zorro.**

**It contains all the 15 requirements for a story of the Zorro 100****th**** Anniversary Challenge.**

** 1 - Zorro uses his whip**

** 2 - A sword fight**

** 3 - A near miss from a bullet**

** 4 - A wrongful imprisonment**

** 5 - A "Z" slashed into something**

** 6 - Jumping a canyon on horseback**

** 7 - A kiss**

** 8 - A gift of a rose**

** 9 - A near miss coming out of a secret passage**

** 10 - Drinks with a sergeant**

** 11 - A drink tossed in someone's face**

** 12 - Sneaking into/out of jail**

** 13 - A deathbed confession**

** 14 - Zorro swinging from a chandelier**

** 15 - Toronado fends off a foe**

— **1 —**

**10:00 am **

Diego sank in the warm, soapy water, relaxing his sore muscles. Bending his knees, he let his body slip down the polished surface of the bathtub until his whole head disappeared, totally submerged. For a moment, he lay still underwater, isolated from the world like a baby in his mother's womb, slowly blowing bubbles through his nose while reflecting on the busy morning he already had.

Before the first light of dawn, Zorro had set out to catch the gang of horse thieves that had been operating in the area for a few days. He believed that catching them unaware in their sleep would be a quick, easy job, but he was mistaken: the men had put up quite a fight, as the aching spot on his flank, right where one of them had hit him with a rifle's butt, kept reminding him.

He should have seen that blow coming, but he didn't, busy as he was disarming another bandit with his sword after dodging that rifle's bullet. In the end, he had managed to deliver the five bandits to the soldiers, all branded with the customary "Z" slashed on their rear end, marked like cattle, but that feat came at a price.

_Maybe I'm getting too old for this Zorro business, _hethought, taking a hand to his side.

"_Diegooooo_."

_Was that…? Good Lord… Not now!_

The sound was muffled, but it looked like his father was calling his name. His eyes rolled under closed eyelids, his peaceful moment disturbed. He lifted his head and torso above the water and heard his father's unmistakable voice again, this time clearly, followed by a demanding knock on the door.

"Dieeeegooooo!"

Diego cursed to himself, upset, because he had hoped for a relaxing lie-in that morning with a poultice on his side, using the old excuse of a headache, but... not this time. Using both hands, he combed back his dripping, dark hair, wiped his eyes and face, and looked down before he answered, making sure the dark bruise was covered by the foam, under the water.

"I'm having a bath, Father! You can come in if you want!"

He sighed and leaned back, resting his head and arms over the bath rim.

Don Alejandro rushed inside Diego's bedroom. He approached the huge bathtub his eccentric son had ordered specially from Monterey, a monster big enough to fit his large frame. One of Diego's oddities; one of many.

"Why are you having a bath now, Son? I don't usually find you awake until later in the morning."

"I couldn't sleep last night. I thought a relaxing bath would help me to start the day refreshed."

"Oh, for a moment I thought you could be planning on visiting a señorita today and you had to look your best," Don Alejandro said with a naughty smirk, "but, no, you don't play that game… Listen, as you are awake, can you ride with me to Santa Paula this morning, to see my lawyer?"

"What for?"

"Get out of the bath and I'll tell you. I'll wait for you at the library. Hurry up!"

Don Alejandro left the room as quickly as he had entered. Diego ducked again and lay still in the water for a few more seconds. Babies in the womb had it so easy, out of reach from their demanding fathers… It wasn't fair!

**10:25 am**

"A courier brought this half an hour ago," Don Alejandro said, once that the now spotlessly clean and well-groomed Diego made an appearance at the library. "Unfortunately, my uncle Rafael, whom I haven't seen for more than a decade, died in Peru last month. His lawyer, Don Alfonso Sánchez, sent this letter to tell me about the inheritance."

"Inheritance?" Diego asked from his favourite armchair, taking the letter Don Alejandro handed him over.

"Yes. My uncle was a lonely widower. His two sons also died years ago. I am his closest relative, and he has left all his fortune to me. A quite large one, apparently. He was a true entrepreneur, and he made a lot of money from business during the last few years. I knew he was wealthy, but I never imagined his fortune would be so large."

"Do you need to travel to Peru to deal with this?" Diego said while reading the letter quickly.

"Maybe. Or I could just sell all his properties through an agent, or have them managed for me. There is a list of villas, haciendas, silver mines… you name it, it's probably there. Come on, let's get going. Let's talk to my lawyer and find out the options. Juan has saddled our horses already; the sooner we get there, the sooner we'll be back. In time for dinner, if possible."

Diego finished reading the letter and returned it to his father. He wondered if he should suggest the carriage, but Don Alejandro was right: riding would be faster, and necessary if they wanted to be back at the hacienda in the evening. He stood up, adjusting his tight, blue waistcoat, not looking forward to the long ride, but he followed his father all the same.

Juan was at the gate, waiting with the two mares, Esperanza and Dulcinea. Felipe also got outside, wondering about their destination.

"We are going to Santa Paula, to visit the lawyer. We should be back tonight for dinner," Diego said. He winked at the youngster then. "No algebra lessons for you today."

"See you later, Felipe. Enjoy your day off!" Don Alejandro said, spurring Dulcinea.

Felipe made a sign, taking a hand to his side with a worried face. He had helped Diego to prepare the bath, and he knew about his injury: his mentor had a couple of cracked ribs. Diego nodded at his father, shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes, and whispered a resigned_ I'll live_ that made the youngster smile. As everyone else, Felipe also knew it was nearly impossible to dissuade Don Alejandro when he had set his mind on something.

Diego spurred Esperanza and set out at a fast gallop to catch up with his anxious father, who could not wait to reach his destination.

**10:59 am**

A young man, barely twenty years old, arrived at the pueblo. He looked tired, his clothes were covered in dust, and his horse looked exhausted. He let the horse drink first at the fountain in the plaza, then hitched him to the rail, and entered the tavern. He smiled at Victoria when he approached the counter.

"_Buenos días, señor_. Would you like something to drink?" she asked while wiping the bar clean.

"Yes, please, señorita. Lemonade."

"You're lucky, I just prepared a fresh jar," Victoria said, fetching it from behind the counter. She poured some in a glass and handed it over. The young man drank it quite avidly.

"_Gracias, señorita_. I've been riding all night to reach Los Angeles. I was very thirsty."

"You're welcome."

The man left a coin in the counter before he asked for directions.

"Could you tell me where the Hacienda de la Vega is, _por favor_?"

"Certainly. If you get out of the pueblo through the north entrance, follow the main road for about twenty minutes and you'll get there. You can't miss it."

"Thank you. Do you have any rooms available by any chance? I would like to rest before I head back to San Diego. My horse is even wearier than I am."

"Yes, I do. It will be ten pesos per night, and another one to take care of your horse."

"All right, I'll take it. I'll be back as soon as I deliver this parcel to Don Alejandro de la Vega."

"I'll get the room ready for you, señor…"

"Álvarez, Raúl Álvarez. Thank you, señorita…"

"Victoria Escalante."

"Nice to meet you, señorita Escalante," he said, taking her hand to kiss it delicately. "I'll see you later."

Victoria watched the young man go. He was quite good looking, with very nice manners, and she liked him instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

— **2 —**

**11:00 am**

Don Alejandro couldn't really take "no" for an answer, and Diego knew better than wasting his time trying. That's how he found himself riding on Esperanza on the way to Santa Paula, resenting his sore flank at every step, thanking God his ribs were not fully fractured or displaced as he initially had thought, or the experience would have been unbearable.

He didn't want to travel that day, but his father was right: if that inheritance was as scandalously large as the letter suggested, it was better if he could take part in the discussion with the lawyer to prepare in advance. Not that they needed any more money, as they were quite wealthy already, and having such an unexpected surplus of wealth could bring them unwanted attention, but on the other hand, it could translate into a large charity project to benefit their community and beyond. Don Alejandro was already tuning into that very same thought when he spoke his mind.

"I knew Rafael had done well in Peru, but not to that extend, and I never imagined I'd be named his sole heir. Diego, you must be quite excited about all this, and I don't want to cut short your prospects for the future, but, do you realize the amount of good work we could do with that unexpected wealth? For example, I would like to donate a large sum to help the poorest farmers in the territory, and build a new orphanage and school. What do you think?"

"That's absolutely fine with me, Father. I was thinking exactly the same. We don't really need more money, do we? And what about all your other relatives, your cousins and nephews? Don't they deserve a piece of this inheritance as well?"

Before his father could answer, they spotted a group of riders coming over the next hill on the road, from the opposite direction, approaching them at top speed, leaving a large cloud of dust behind them.

"They are in a hurry," Don Alejandro said, slowing down his mare.

"Yes, they are, indeed," Diego said, narrowing his eyes, worried. He couldn't identify any of the men, but galloping at that speed didn't make sense, unless they wanted to kill their horses or they had no time to lose to get somewhere.

The De la Vegas verged to the side of the road to make way for the approaching group, but the leader reduced his horse's gait to a trot and halted it by their side instead of passing by, as they expected. The other riders casually positioned themselves all around them, a move that got Diego on full alert.

"_Buenos días_. Can you please tell us how long it will take us to reach Los Angeles?" said the leader, a tall, well-built man with a serious, no-nonsense face.

"At a normal pace, half an hour," Diego said, aware of their exhausted horses' heavy breathing, "but if you abuse your horses like that, substantially less."

"Thank you, but the speed we travel by is none of your business, señor…?"

Diego didn't answer, evaluating the situation. If things were about to go wrong, they were outnumbered and defenceless without weapons, and these men carried swords and guns. Not a good prospect. The man looked at Don Alejandro then, raising an eyebrow.

"Señor…?"

"De la Vega, Don Alejandro de la Vega. And who the hell are you?" the old don said, also aware of the looming danger, but his pride always trumped his good sense.

The man laughed then, and so did all the others, a group of seven men in total.

"Don Alejandro de la Vega? That would save us some time then," the leader said, producing a gun. Don Alejandro automatically lifted his hands.

"We are not armed, and you are wasting your time: we don't have any money with us."

"No, but you'll do pretty soon, don't you?" that man said, laughing again. He grabbed Dulcinea's reins and pulled from them, turning the horse. "You'll come with us, Don Alejandro. Don't try anything stupid, please, because I'm well known for my lack of patience."

Diego made a desperate move for one of the swords then, but before he could reach it, the rider beside him kicked him right on his aching, damaged ribs. Diego cried, and out of balance, he slipped off the saddle on the other side, but still managed to land on his feet.

"Diego! No!" Don Alejandro cried.

Diego held onto his side, out of breath, and before he could do anything else, another man whacked his head with a rifle. Diego fell to the ground, so stunned he could barely hear their laughs and his father's swearing. He lay still, blinking, surrounded by dozens of nervous, dancing hooves, that fortunately, missed trampling on him. Unable to focus while a hazy murk fell all around him, he saw the men rough-handling and hitting his feisty, infuriated father, bonding his wrists, gagging and blind-folding him to keep him under control.

The leader dismounted and crouched by the fallen, motionless body. He grabbed Diego's hair and lifted his head to look at him in the eye, satisfied because he was still conscious, or sort of.

"You will hear from us soon. Start counting the money," the leader said, before he let go of that bleeding head. "A lot of money."

The last thing Diego saw before he lost consciousness at the side of the road was a blurry group of riders galloping away.

**11:32 am **

Felipe would never admit it to anyone, but he truly enjoyed maths, and specially, algebra. He had been looking forward to that lesson, but when he saw the state Diego was in when he returned from his last adventure as the masked hero, he didn't think it would happen that day.

Why had Diego agreed to ride all the way to Santa Paula in his condition? They should have travelled in the carriage, and he could have been driving it, enjoying a trip with the grown-ups. Instead, he had a boring day ahead. Or that's what he thought…

When he was lazily sweeping the patio to keep busy, another courier arrived at the hacienda.

"_Chico_, is this the Hacienda de la Vega?" the courier, a young man only a few years older than him, asked. Felipe nodded. "I have this parcel for Don Alejandro de la Vega. Special delivery, to be given personally in hand. Can you tell me where he is, please?"

Felipe signed, trying to explain that Don Alejandro was on his way to Santa Paula.

"I can't understand you. Can't you talk?"

Felipe shook his head. The man grew impatience then.

"Anybody here who can help me? HELLOOOO!" he shouted. The courier looked nervous, like anxious to deliver the parcel and go.

Juan walked to the front door then. He looked at Felipe, and then at the man, thinking it was odd to have two couriers delivering mail on the same day.

"Hello. Can I help you?"

"_Sí._ _Traigo un paquete para Don Alejandro de la Vega_."

"He's not here. He'll be out for the whole day. I'm Juan Torres, his foreman. I could give it to him when he returns."

"My instructions were to give him this _paquete_ in hand," the young man said, hesitating. "But, as this hacienda is in the middle of nowhere and I've been riding for days to get here, I'll make an exception. Sign here, _por favor_," the young man said, producing a piece of paper. Juan signed, and the man gave him the small parcel. He looked pleased to get rid of it. "Please, keep it safe until he returns."

"Who sends this?"

"Aaaah… I don't know. It doesn't say. Thank you, señor, enjoy your day," the man said, heading back to the pueblo.

Juan looked at the parcel, turning it over several times in his calloused, hardened hands. As the courier said, it had no sender written in the outer wrapping. Only the place it was posted: San Diego.

"All right Felipe, you keep this somewhere safe, and give it only to Don Alejandro. I have a busy day ahead branding the herd, and I doubt I'll be back before they do."

He handed Felipe the parcel and headed back to the stables. Felipe walked inside, to the library. He knew the perfect place to keep anything "safe", away from prying eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

— **3 —**

**12:00 pm (noon)**

Victoria Escalante walked into her room to refresh herself after cooking lunch. After washing, she looked at the red rose languishing in a vase on her bedside table and sighed, sad, shaking her head. Zorro gave her that rose last week. Was that a sign of their languishing relationship?

He was at the pueblo early that morning, delivering a bunch of low-lives to the lancers, and he had only saluted her from the distance, by nodding and touching his brim, not bothering to get closer. Where was the passion of yesteryears, when he would risk life and limb for a brief moment with her? The good old days, when he would climb up to her window to steal a kiss even if the whole garrison was on alert looking for him? Those days were gone. She couldn't remember the last time he had done that.

She should face it: their relationship was heading nowhere, and he was losing interest.

On a whim, she grabbed the rose and threw it in the bin, despondent, before she got to the door. She grabbed the handle, but she couldn't get out, frozen on the spot. No, that wasn't right.

She came back, rescued the rose, that had dropped three more petals already, and placed it back in the vase to keep it alive for as long as possible, like their love.

Victoria sighed again. Maybe Zorro didn't love her so much anymore, but she still did.

**12:20 pm**

On the way back to Los Angeles, Sergeant Mendoza's stomach rumbled loudly. Past noon, and they were still out, in the stupid manoeuvres Alcalde De Soto had send them on at the crack of dawn. What was the point on covering such large number of miles on their horses for nothing, with no real direction or purpose other than getting tired and frustrated? Their tracking skills had not improved as a result of this exercise, nor had anything else. It was a gigantic waste of time and effort.

He was hungry, and that made him grumpy. And he hated being grumpy nearly as much as he hated an empty stomach. Only half an hour more and they would be back at the pueblo, and into the tavern for lunch, tucking into a plate filled to the brim with delicious tamales. That thought put a smile on his face, and he unconsciously spurred his horse to go faster.

The road ahead undulated over some hills. Coming up over one of the tops, far away in the distance, he noticed a human figure lying at the side of the road. He wasn't moving. He looked… dead? Or maybe he was just asleep, having a siesta?

Hoping it was the second option, Mendoza urged his horse to a full gallop. The lancers followed him, also spotting the body. When getting closer, Mendoza thought the man looked a lot like Don Diego de la Vega, a man he considered his _friend._

He dismounted and kneeled by that body, frantic, and turned it over. Don Diego was unconscious, bleeding from a wound on his head. Maybe he had fallen off his horse? After all, that man's lack of riding skills was legendary.

"_Madre de Dios!_ Don Diego! Don Diego, please, wake up!" Mendoza said, shaking him gently. Diego stirred a bit, still unresponsive. "He's alive! Sepúlveda, water!"

The corporal handed over his canteen, that only had a small amount of liquid remaining, and the sergeant poured the whole content over Diego's face. He stirred a bit more, and Mendoza slapped his face gently a few times until he slowly came to, blinking.

"Don Diego, thank God you are alive! Are you alright? What happened? Did you fall off your horse?"

Diego looked around, confused, not taking in any of the questions, until he remembered what happened.

"My father! Where's my father?"

"Your father?" Mendoza looked around as well. Don Alejandro wasn't there, nor was Don Diego's horse. "He's not here."

"They took him!" Diego said, trying to get up.

"They took him? Who?"

Diego sat up, but he was too dizzy. He fell back into Mendoza's arms, anxious and frustrated by his own weakness.

"Bandits! They took him. You must find him!"

"Please, Don Diego, calm down. We'll get you to the doctor, and we'll find Don Alejandro, don't worry," Mendoza said, patting Diego's arm reassuringly. "Lancers! Give me a hand here!"

**12:45 pm**

Felipe panicked in dismay when he saw Esperanza returning to the hacienda without her rider. Despite what anyone else could think —thanks to Diego's superb deception skills— his mentor would never fall off a horse, even less Esperanza, unless something was really wrong.

The mare headed straight for her pen, ignoring Felipe's attempts to find out what might have happened. After a while, the youngster gave up trying, because Esperanza wasn't Toronado. The black stallion would take him back to wherever Diego was to help him, but not the other horses.

He got out of the stables, looking for Juan or any of the ranchmen, but he couldn't find anybody. Of course not, because all the men were out that day at the roundup, branding the young cows, and they would not return until later, as Juan said before. He was on his own, except for María, the house keeper, and Asunción, the cook, and he didn't know what to do.

In the end, he saddled his pinto horse and headed for the pueblo to alert the lancers.


	4. Chapter 4

— **4 —**

**1:00 pm **

The kidnappers had dragged Don Alejandro inside a dark cellar, pushing him down to sit on the cold, hard floor, with his hands tied at the back to a ring on the wall, and had left him brooding there for nearly an hour. When they finally removed the gag and the blindfold, the old don started shouting insults and demands.

"_Malditos seáis todos!_ Go back to my son! You can't leave him there, dying on that road!"

"Don't worry, old man. Someone will find him, because he has to pay us for your miserable life," the leader said, laughing in his face. "And shut up or I'll gag you again!"

"Damned bastards! I'll have you all…"

"Shut up I said!"

The leader used the piece of cloth again to silence the old don, pressing hard with the gag in his mouth, denting at the corner of his lips. Don Alejandro shook his head, growling a complaint, but it didn't matter. In the end, he received another punch on his nose. As he bled, he kept quiet. Fighting was getting him nowhere. As it got Diego nowhere.

What the hell was his son thinking? Why did he try to fight those dangerous men when he never showed any courage before? It was beyond him. He could only hope that the terrible blow to his head didn't kill him, and that someone would find him soon to help him.

**1:17 pm**

Corporal Sepúlveda and two lancers arrived at the garrison in a hurry. Sepúlveda rushed into alcalde De Soto's office.

"Alcalde, Don Alejandro has been kidnapped!"

"Kidnapped? How do you know that?"

"We found Don Diego unconscious on the road to Santa Paula. They were attacked by bandits. They took his father with them, very likely to ask for a ransom."

"Interesting… Where's Don Diego? And where's that dimwit, Mendoza?"

"On their way. Don Diego wasn't fit to ride but on a slow pace, so we went ahead."

"All right. Prepare the rest of the men for a search party. Get fresh horses for yourselves."

"Alcalde, we've been riding all day, and…"

"Corporal, a citizen of this pueblo, a pillar of the community may be in great danger, and you prefer to have a siesta instead of helping him?!" De Soto spat, full of sarcasm, but the corporal didn't get it. _Don't we all prefer a siesta?_

"No, of course, not, but at least we could have lunch before they…"

"Get out of my sight!"

De Soto smiled when the corporal left, wondering if he could be lucky enough as to get rid of Don Alejandro, such a thorn in his side sometimes, without any wrong doing on his part. For once, he had nothing to do with the trouble, his hands were clean, but that didn't mean he would like to work out a sweat while searching for the man. However, if he could rescue the old don from the hands of dangerous criminals, it would look good in his service record. Either way, it would suit him nicely.

When Felipe entered his office, he erased that smirk from his face. The boy started signing, moving his hands all over the place. De Soto couldn't understand a word.

"_Sí, muchacho_, I know, Don Alejandro got kidnapped. Don't worry, we are already on it."

Felipe's jaw dropped, because he had no idea. He carried on signing then, asking about Diego, but the alcalde ignored him.

"I have to get ready myself. That would be all, Felipe. Outside, please," De Soto said, showing Felipe the open door, almost pushing him through.

Felipe walked across the plaza to the tavern, in a state. Victoria could immediately see that something was troubling him.

"Felipe, what's wrong?"

Felipe signed again, but before Victoria could decipher his signs, Corporal Sepúlveda and the other two lancers came in, demanding food.

"Señorita Escalante, would you be so kind to serve us a meal rather quickly, please?" Sepúlveda said. "Don Alejandro got kidnapped and we are about to go searching for him, but we've been out already all day. We are starving."

"Kidnapped? Oh my God! Is that what you wanted to tell me, Felipe?"

The youngster nodded quickly, distressed.

"Where's Don Diego?"

"He's on his way here. I'm afraid he's is in a bad shape, Señorita. The De la Vegas got attacked on the road to Santa Paula."

"Oh, no!" she cried, so distressed she didn't know what to do.

"The food? Please?" Sepúlveda said, looking through the window at the fresh soldiers already assembling at the plaza.

Victoria snapped out of her trance and went to the kitchen to fill up three plates with tamales. The soldiers devoured them standing by the counter, while she asked them questions, but she didn't get much information from them, other than Mendoza would arrive with Diego soon.

While the soldiers ate their lunch, Felipe went to fetch Doctor Hernández so he would be ready for his mentor's arrival.

**1:40 pm**

Another group of soldiers arrived at the plaza. Following them, Mendoza and another lancer helped Diego to stay in the saddle because he was very unbalanced and swayed to the sides, even if the horse walked at a very slow pace.

Victoria rushed out of the tavern.

"Oh, my God, Don Diego, are you alright?"

"I will be, don't worry," Diego said, trying to smile, but his shirt was bloodstained and he didn't look right at all, alarming Victoria even more.

"Get him inside, _rápido_! Doctor Hernández is waiting for him!"

Mendoza and the other soldier helped Diego to dismount and dragged him to the tavern, to one of the guest rooms upstairs, where the doctor examined him. While he was doing that, the alcalde walked in.

"Diego, we need more information before we go. Can you tell me what happened exactly?"

"We were on our way to Santa Paula to see our lawyer about an inheritance," Diego said slowly, dragging his words, while Doctor Hernández had a look at his wound. He made Diego hiss in pain and move his head away when he touched the edges of that gash.

"Stand still, please," the doctor said.

"Somehow, these men that attacked us on the road knew about the inheritance, because they mentioned my father would have a lot of money soon," Diego continued, as still as a statue now, ignoring the pain. "They knocked me out and took him away. That's all I know."

"Did they ask for any money?"

"They said they will contact me. I guess they will ask for a substantial ransom soon, yes."

"All right. We'll go back to the spot where Mendoza found you and we'll start the search from there."

"No! Don't do that!" Diego said, rather too eagerly.

They all looked at him then, puzzled, because that was the more logical step, but, how could he tell them they should not trample all over the hoof prints Zorro would hopefully try to follow later on? He looked mortified by his blunder, but only Felipe knew why.

"Why not?" De Soto said, suspicious, but Diego looked so confused then he had to blame it on the concussion. "Never mind. I think that blow has affected your good judgement, De la Vega."

He left the room, and soon they could hear his call outside, at the plaza.

"Lancers, _vámonos_!"


	5. Chapter 5

— **5 —**

**2:00 pm**

Diego lied on that bed, over the covers, with his left arm covering his eyes, fighting the nausea and the horrendous headache, with his shirt undone and a poultice —finally— applied to his badly bruised side. The doctor had now confirmed it: he had two broken ribs, not only cracked, thanks to that unfortunate kick he received. That had been extreme bad luck; after all, what were the odds of receiving two blows on the exact same spot during the same morning? It was a harsh reminder: he should never let his guard down like that ever again.

Doctor Hernández had also stitched up the wound on his head, applied a dressing, and ordered him to rest, but he didn't want to rest: he wanted to go home to ride out as Zorro as soon as possible. However, he couldn't do that yet, not until he felt better.

Yet, what would he do differently to find his father? Because the soldiers were already looking for him, although they didn't have his tracking skills... No, he had to get up as soon as he felt ready, whatever the doctor or anyone else said.

The only positive thing in that situation was having Victoria so worried about him, by his side. He had seen her that morning, when Zorro delivered the horse thieves to the soldiers, but he didn't stay around to talk to her, as he was in a hurry to go home to check his side and rest. She had looked sad and disappointed for this, and that broke his heart. But now she was all over him, meaning "him", Diego, not Zorro, and it was a nice change for once.

"Don't worry, Diego. The alcalde and the lancers will find Don Alejandro safe and sound, and if they don't, Zorro will," she said, stroking his arm so gently, the feeling provided tingling goosebumps of pleasure. "Relax, don't worry about anything. You've been lucky that bastard didn't break your skull with that blow."

Diego lowered his other arm to look at his beloved with a forced, silly smile.

"Thank you, Victoria."

He noticed she was looking at his abdomen with interest, while caressing his arm, deeply lost in thought. He mentally cursed his lapse, because she could be wondering about the prominent muscles on display and what could have caused a couple of scars. He played the coy card then, and clearing his throat, he pulled from his shirt to cover his flesh, in the name of propriety. She looked disappointed then, and stood up to leave.

"You are welcome. Rest now, please, as the doctor said. I'll be back soon to check on you."

She leaned forward to kiss his forehead, but as he had that bulky dressing on, she ended up kissing his cheek instead.

He smiled again. It was nice to feel her warm lips in that area, that was usually covered by the mask. He watched her go, and then covered his eyes again, hoping the bark infusion he had already drunk would take care of the pain soon, and that the dizziness would pass.

**2:33 pm**

De Soto looked at the small puddle of dry blood and at the myriads of hoof prints on that spot of the busy road to Santa Paula. He didn't have a clue how to track the kidnappers, nor did any of his inept soldiers, and trampling all over the prints with their own horses didn't help matters at all. Maybe Diego was right when he advised them not to go there, at least in a group.

"Which way, Alcalde?" Mendoza said.

De Soto looked around, hesitant, then pointed at the road, back to where they came from.

"That way."

"Lancers, turn back!" Mendoza said, waving his arm.

The lancers turned their horses and spurred them to a trot.

_Maldita sea, we need Zorro here_, De Soto thought, also spurring his horse. Something he would never admit out loud.

**2:49 pm**

Don Alejandro stirred when he saw the leader returning to the cellar. More than two hours in that uncomfortable posture had left him stiff, with numbed legs, aching back and shoulders, and his mouth and neck also hurting thanks to the gag still pressing on his lips and tongue. He lifted his head to look at the bandit after he tampered with the knot behind his head, glad to have his sore mouth free of the gag.

"Sorry for the lack of hospitality, Don Alejandro, but at the moment, this is the best I can do."

"Yes, I see how deeply sorry you are about keeping a man my age in these appalling conditions…" Don Alejandro replied with a raspy voice.

"If you aren't nice, I'll replace this again," the man said, waving the piece of cloth right in front of his eyes, "but if you behave, I'll give you some water instead."

Don Alejandro looked at him, boiling with hatred, but he didn't say anything else, holding his sharp —and by now, very dry— tongue. Soon, the old don looked at the glass his kidnapper was offering with desire. The man took the glass to his sore lips, and he drank eagerly.

"Easy, don't choke," the man said, laughing, taking pleasure in finding out how thirsty his hostage was.

After only four, long swigs, he took the glass away to tease him, but Don Alejandro was too proud to complain or beg for more.

"I'm about to send a message to your son."

"Where is he? Is he alright?"

"The soldiers found him. We didn't kill him, don't worry. However, if you don't cooperate, that situation could be reversed."

"Don't you dare touching him again!"

Don Alejandro's rage made him growl like a wild animal while trying to get his hands out of the bonds for the umpteenth time, but in the end, he gave up and listened, clenching his jaw.

"How much do you reckon I could ask for your pathetic life right now? Give me a realistic figure, because if your son doesn't deliver that exact amount, I will have to kill you. Or him. Or both of you."

"A thousand pesos? Because we don't have much money in the house. It's all in the bank."

"Don't be ridiculous… I already presumed that would be the case, but your bank, knowing how much money their very special customer is about to receive, could make an exception and give you an advanced withdrawal of funds… specially if they intend to keep you as a client in the near future to manage your accounts. After all, if you lose your life, what kind of business would they do with a corpse?"

For the way he laughed, the bandit found his own words extremely amusing, making Don Alejandro boil in anger again.

"Both my lawyer and my banker are in Santa Paula. It will take a while to get there. How long are you planning to keep me here like this?"

"As long as it takes… But you're right. You could send a message to your lawyer and your banker explaining them your delicate situation, because they need to come to Los Angeles as soon as possible."

"And how will I do that, exactly?"

"I'll prepare a document. Don't you worry, De la Vega, I will only need your signature for this," the man said blithely, already heading for the door. There, he turned to look at the old don again. "Keep thinking on the figure in the meantime, please. And be realistic, don't try to spare the pesos… How much do you think you'd be worth, really, if you had to pay for your own ransom yourself?"


	6. Chapter 6

— **6 —**

**3:00 pm**

After three hours of sleep, oblivious to the situation in the pueblo, Raúl woke up with a rumbling stomach. He left his room to get downstairs to the bar to order some food.

"Señorita, would you be so kind to serve me something to eat in my room? I know it's a bit late for lunch, but I was so tired earlier I didn't even think about eating."

"Certainly, I'll bring you a plate of _sopa de albóndigas_."

"That would be wonderful, thank you."

"Red wine?"

"_Sí, por favor_."

"I'll take your meal upstairs as soon as I can."

"_Gracias_."

Raúl returned to his room, yawning. He closed the door behind him and sat on the bed, looking around. It was a nice place, and he wondered if he should stay for a few days, as he wasn't really in a hurry to return to San Diego. He already had half of the money for delivering the parcel, and the rest should be waiting for him there, sitting nicely in a bank account.

Maybe he could look for a job in Los Angeles and get to know this nice tavern keeper a bit better. She was a bit older than him, but… age was just a number.

He loosened up his collar, unbuttoning his shirt, but only half way down. He didn't think Victoria was of that kind, but, you never know…

While waiting for his meal, he got hold of the silver pendant he had hanging from his neck, on a long chain.

_"Maybe tomorrow…"_ he whispered with a hopeful smile.

He liked that motto, that was engraved at the back of that pendant, although he didn't know the reason. For him, it was too open for imagination.

**3:09 pm**

After Raúl closed the door behind him, Felipe got out of Diego's room. His mentor was feeling a bit better, and he had asked for a bit of food.

Victoria was already preparing a meal for the courier when Felipe entered the kitchen.

"Diego wants to eat something?" she said, deciphering his signs.

Felipe nodded, and took a hand to his chest, tapping it.

"And you too? Alright, I'll warm up more _albóndigas_ then," she said, pouring more soup in the casserole. "Diego must be feeling better then, if he wants to eat. That's good news."

She put the pot on the fire. It didn't take her long to warm up the leftovers from lunch, which she distributed in three bowls.

"There, you take these two," she said, handing him over two bowls with their spoons. "I have to take this one to another guest first."

**3:15 pm**

The leader returned to the cellar with the document. He stopped in front of the old don, who lifted his head again to look at him with renewed hatred.

"Have you thought of a figure yet?"

"No!" Don Alejandro snapped, truly irritated by the man's insistence.

"Pity. I'll ask for whatever I want then."

"You're going to, anyway! What does it matter what I say?"

"Don Alejandro, I was giving you a chance to choose your own value," the man said softly, leaning to tap his shoulder with the rolled document. "It's already here, nonetheless, but I still want to hear it from you. Come on, tell me: how much are you worth?"

As the old don didn't answer, the kidnapper kicked his hip.

"All right! I'll tell you, _hijo de la gran puta_… Ten thousand pesos!"

"Don Alejandro, please, don't insult my intelligence... and, above all, don't insult my mother!" the leader said, kicking his abdomen much, much harder.

Don Alejandro cried, falling to the ground with his hands still tied up at the back, out of breath, regretting his gratuitous and uncharacteristic swearing, but the situation was exceptional. He knew that insulting that dangerous man would only cause him pain, although… the futile satisfaction of antagonizing him was also there.

"You are about to inherit a vast fortune, old man, including silver and gold mines… Don't you think that's worth a bit more than a lousy ten thousand pesos?"

He kicked the fallen man again, who lay flat on the ground facedown to protect his abdomen.

"Give me another number!"

"For crying out loud! How much do you want? One hundred thousand?"

The man kicked his side and then stomped on his back, between his shoulders, crushing him against the floor.

"That's a lot of money, you fool!" Don Alejandro cried under his boot, while struggling to breathe. "You'll never get away with so much cash! No small bank has that amount available to withdraw!"

The kidnapper lifted his foot and jerked Don Alejandro to sit him upright again, banging his back and head against the wall. Don Alejandro was panting, in pain, and he panted even faster when the crazy bastard produced a gun and pressed the barrel against his forehead.

"Come on, be real: how much do you think your pitiful life is worth now?"

Don Alejandro growled, but the man didn't flinch. Very calmly, he cocked the gun, then asked again.

"How much? Last chance, so get it right..."

"ONE MILLION PESOS!" the old don finally yelled. "Ask for a bloody million, you son-of-a-bitch, and as my son would never be able to raise that amount of money in time, you may as well pull the trigger right now!"

The man pressed harder with the barrel. Don Alejandro closed his eyes, clenching his teeth, saying his final _adiós_ to the world, but instead of firing, the man laughed and withdrew the gun.

"It wasn't that difficult, was it?"

He unrolled the document in front of Don Alejandro's upset face and let him read it. As he said before, it was already there, in writing: he was asking for a million pesos.

"You're crazy!"

"No, you are, thinking that you're really worth so much, you pompous ass," the man said, laughing again, cutting the rope that bonded the old don's wrists behind his back. "Now, sign this, please. And don't cheat, because I know what your real signature looks like."

**3:20 pm**

Victoria knocked on Raúl's door.

"Adelante."

When she came in, she found the young man sitting on the bed, with his shirt partially undone, looking at the pendant he had hanging from his neck. Dishevelled, he looked kind of sexy.

"I got your meal."

She couldn't help but comparing that rather skinny torso with Diego's, not knowing exactly why. If anybody, she should be comparing Raúl to Zorro, not with his childhood friend, who was surprisingly brawny. She shook her head to push those funny ideas off her mind, and left the tray on the small table by the window. Raúl stood up, stepping toward her.

"Thank you, Señorita. You are very kind."

"Enjoy your meal."

She tried to walk around him, but he moved out of the way at the same time and they bumped into each other.

"Sorry," they both said at the same time, moving automatically to the other side, resulting in another bump that got her face buried in his naked chest.

When she jumped back, he held her upper arms, and her gaze, considering a kiss, but when she blushed and looked at the floor, with genuine embarrassment, he let go off her.

No, she wasn't that kind. She had passed the test.

"Sorry, Señorita. You go first, please," he said, stepping back.

She walked past him quickly then, greatly embarrassed of that improper contact, pretending it didn't happen.

**3:59 pm**

María, the house keeper, screamed in fear when she saw the group of rough-looking men entering the hacienda, their faces covered by bandanas, but there was nobody else there to help her, other than Asunción, the cook, a stocky no-nonsense woman that came quickly from the kitchen.

"Don't panic, ladies. Just tell me where it is, and we'll be on our way," the leader said.

"Who are you? And what are you talking about?" Asunción said, appearing fearless, hands on her hips.

"The parcel for Don Alejandro. It contains something we need."

"What… what parcel?" María said, shaken, not keeping her cool as the cook was doing.

"Where is it? I don't have time to lose. Tell me!" the leader asked the terrified María. She didn't answer, so he slapped her hard. "Tell me!"

"Leave her alone!" Asunción said, taking the little house keeper in her beefy arms. "We don't know what you are looking for! Besides, Don Alejandro has a safety box, it could be there, but we don't know where that is. We couldn't help you even if we wanted to!"

Those words placated the man's fury a bit. They were right, the servants couldn't know. The group of men searched the whole house then, methodically, destroying everything as they went along, while the two women embraced, comforting each other.

"I found the safe!" said one of the men when he toppled a picture off the wall in the library.

"You don't happen to know the combination, do you?" the leader asked. The women shook their head. Of course they didn't. "All right, blow it then!"


	7. Chapter 7

_**A.N – Thanks for reading and for your kind reviews. I hope you are enjoying this story so far. As it has 24 chapters much shorter than my usual word count per chapter (there are roughly about 1000 words per chapter here, my usual is above 2500) and I still have so many to post, I will increase the number of chapters I post daily or it will take me ages.**_

_**I hope you like this idea of over-posting, but please, don't use it as an excuse for skipping the reviews! **_

— **7 —**

**4:00 pm**

Diego had the fool's consolation: at least now he could justify the bruise on his side and the fractured ribs to keep applying poultices without anybody suspecting anything. After eating his meal, he was back on the bed, with a fresh one on his side. With the dizziness almost gone, and the pain in his head down to bearable levels, he was itching to get up already, although his ribs hurt with every breath he took.

"Felipe, ask Victoria if we could take her carriage so I can go home."

"_Already?" _the youngster signed.

"Yes, I'm no longer dizzy, and my head hurts substantially less. I'm alright."

"_You don't look alright to me..."_

"I can't keep lying in bed while my father is out there somewhere, in danger. Come on, ask for a carriage so you can drive me to the cave, or I'll take your horse instead. Either way, I'm going, and you know it."

Felipe gave up and went downstairs again to ask Victoria. Why were all the De la Vegas so stubborn? Well, in this case… _like father, like son_, that was for sure.

**4:20 pm**

While wandering aimlessly in the countryside, without a clue, the soldiers heard a blast when they rode close to the hacienda De la Vega.

"What was that? It came from the hacienda," Mendoza said, "and today, it cannot be one of Don Diego's experiments."

"Maybe he left one unattended this morning… but we better go and check what happened," De Soto said. "_Vamos!_"

A group of men left the hacienda at full gallop as the soldiers approached it.

"Mendoza and Márquez, stay with me! The rest of you, get those men!" De Soto yelled.

The tired soldiers gave chase to the bandits then, while the alcalde and the two other lancers reached the hacienda. What they found there was total desolation, as if a hurricane had destroyed the place entirely.

"Madre de Dios! What happened here?" Mendoza said.

They heard muffled noises coming from the kitchen, where they found the two women tied and gagged.

"Señoras, what happened?" De Soto said, hurrying to help them. "Are you all right?"

"Bandits! That's what happened! They were looking for something, a parcel, but they didn't find it," Asunción said as soon as the alcalde removed her gag. "Dios mío, Don Alejandro will be so upset when he sets eyes on this mess!"

"Don Alejandro? Don't you know he has been kidnapped?" De Soto said.

"¿_El señor?_ ¿_Secuestrado?_ _Santa Madre de Dios!_" María said, horrified.

"No, we didn't know," Asunción said, getting up from her chair when Mendoza set her free, rubbing her sore, chubby wrists. "Is he alright?"

"We don't know yet. We hope so," Mendoza said.

"Y Don Diego? Where is he?" Asunción said. "They left together this morning."

"He's resting at the tavern. He got badly hurt by the kidnappers," Mendoza said.

"Oh, my God," María said, crying again, with her hands covering her face. Too much for her.

"Are you alright? Do you need any help before we go?" De Soto said.

"We're fine, thank you," Asunción said, looking around. "Actually, we do need help, Alcalde, but I guess you won't take a broom and help us to clean up this mess…"

"Sorry, Ladies, but I must capture those men. Come one, you two, let's go!" he said, urging the soldiers outside.

After they left, Asunción put one of the chairs upright, the first step to clean up the house. It was going to take a while to put it right. A long while.

**4:51 pm**

When Diego and Felipe arrived at the hacienda, they encountered the kind of desolation that only belong in a war zone. The two servants were tackling the difficult task of cleaning up the mess left behind by the bandits. When they came in, they hurried to tell Diego about the men that had raided the house and how the alcalde had rescued them.

"They were looking for something," Asunción said.

"A parcel," María said.

"The leader kept asking where it was, but he never said what it contained or what it looked like," Asunción continued. "We didn't know what he was talking about."

Felipe remembered the parcel then. He signed Diego, telling him he had something at the cave to show him. For the way he looked at the women sideways, it was clear they should not hear about it.

"Thank you, María. Thank you, Asunción. Don't worry about this mess, please."

"How can we not worry about it? When Don Alejandro returns, he's going to be devastated," María said, crying. "Well, if he…"

"We'll sort this out now!" Asunción interrupted her, scolding her with her eyes for nearly suggesting in front of Don Diego his father might never return.

"All right. Can you start with the kitchen, please? Because you'll have to prepare dinner later," Diego said.

"Yes, the kitchen first," the cook said. "Come on, María, let's go."

Diego and Felipe got to the library. It was a disaster zone, like the rest of the house. Books lay everywhere, off the shelves, and they could hardly walk without treading on them. The decorative plates, plant pots, vases, pictures… everything had been destroyed, and also lay smashed in pieces on the floor, together with the rubble left by the explosion, mainly bits of plaster and bricks. There was a hole on the wall now, where the safe used to be: it had been blown away with gunpowder and opened, and it also lay empty, discarded in the middle of the room.

Away from prying eyes, Felipe told Diego a young courier had delivered a parcel addressed to Don Alejandro, to be given in hand, and that he had kept it safe at the cave.

"What is it?"

Felipe shrugged his shoulders. Of course he didn't know, he had not opened it.

With his foot, Diego swept some of the debris away from the secret entrance. When he actioned the mechanism to open it, he was for once glad it seemed to be stuck.

"Don Diego, are you sure about this?" Asunción said from the library's door. "Let me help you with this room first. I know how much you love your books, and…"

"No, don't worry, Asunción. As I said, clean the kitchen first, because I'm starving. My books can wait."

"As you wish," the cook said, returning to the kitchen.

Relieved, Felipe and Diego looked at each other and to the secret door that very timely had refused to open. They cleaned more of the debris with their hands, and then pushed the door.


	8. Chapter 8

— **8 —**

**5:00 pm**

At the cave, Felipe handed Diego the parcel.

"Who sent it?"

Felipe shrugged his shoulders again, and signed: _No idea. The courier didn't know either._

Diego turned the parcel in his hands, as Juan had done before, and then opened it. It contained a letter and a wooden box. Inside the box there was akey, a map, and a silver medallion with the words "_quizás mañana_" (maybe tomorrow) engraved.

The letter was from Rafael, written three weeks before he died. Felipe waited expectantly while Diego read it, and only half way through, he urged his mentor to tell him what it said.

"It is a deathbed confession from my great uncle Rafael. Apparently, there is another De la Vega out there who could be more entitled to his fortune than we are. Rafael cheated his wife with one of his servants while he was married, and when my great aunt Consuelo found out, she dismissed that woman, who left the house in shame. Years later, after Consuelo died, Rafael found out the servant was pregnant with his illegitimate child. He said he loved her, and that the pendant is part of a set; he gave the other piece to that servant before she left. He tried to find her for years, only to discover she had died too, with a complication after labour, but she had a healthy boy that went to live with her sister, who raised him. The person Rafael hired to investigate managed to track that child down to San Diego. That young man could be his legitimate heir now, if he had found him and declared him a legitimate De la Vega on time, but Rafael was too old and sick by then, and he knew he didn't have much time left. People that he called "the vultures" had been trying to get their hands on his fortune for years, and he didn't know who he could trust, not even his lawyer."

"_So? What else?"_

"I don't know yet, Felipe, don't be so impatient. Let me read it first!"

Diego carried on reading. Rafael talked about how he had been a prisoner in his own house for the last few months, due to his illness, the constant danger of criminals wanting to steal from him, and the actions of other threatening people like his wife's relatives, who claimed to be entitled to his fortune. At the end of the letter, Rafael asked his father to find the missing heir, and make sure he was a true De la Vega, trusting Don Alejandro's ability to judge a good character.

All the way, Rafael sounded like a desperate, febrile man, and it made Diego feel very sorry for him. He should have contacted his father before about all this, but he didn't. Or… did he?

"I have to check on something," Diego said, looking through the spy hole before he used the secret door to return to the library. Felipe followed him, intrigued. "But I don't know how I will find it in this chaos."

Right then, they heard the noise of shattering glass when a window got trashed in the kitchen. The women were still there, cleaning, and they cried out, startled.

Diego's first reaction was running to that window. A rider was already galloping away. If he tried to follow him, he would never catch up.

Felipe got the large stone that had broken the window. It was wrapped in paper, with what looked like another letter. It was addressed to Don Diego de la Vega. Felipe handed it over.

Diego read that letter quickly. It was from the kidnappers.

"They are asking for one million pesos," Diego said, clenching his jaw and fist.

"Madre de Dios! Are they crazy? No one has so much money!" Asunción cried, but then thought about it. "Aaah… do you, Don Diego?"

"They suggest we get our banker to give us a loan, and to bring the lawyer as well to prepare some legal documents."

"_You can't travel to Santa Paula to tell them!" _Felipe signed.

"No, but you could tell our vaqueros. Meet the men at the roundup and tell them to come here to help instead. The calves can wait. Take a fresh horse with you and ask Juan to go to Santa Paula. He should bring the banker and the lawyer to Los Angeles before the morning or they'll kill my father."

"Oh, no!" María cried. Then she added, with a trembling voice. "And what are you going to do, Don Diego?"

Diego clenched his jaw again, but he didn't answer. To find his father and bring him back safe and sound, of course, that was what Zorro was going to do.

If only his ribs could hurt a little bit less…

**5:57 pm**

After trying to understand Felipe's explanations, Juan couldn't believe the letter he got from Don Diego: his boss got kidnapped by bandits! And now he had to bring the banker to los Angeles with the money in time or they would kill him.

He was tired after a hard day working with the calves, and he didn't feel like going to Santa Paula at all, but he couldn't let the De la Vegas down. They were like family to him.

"I'll bring them to the hacienda as fast as I can," Juan said, mounting up the saddle. "But I don't think we'll ever get that amount in cash... It's impossible. A million pesos? Jesus, that's ridiculous! That man has no grasp for reality. The prize on Zorro's head is only six thousand, for crying out loud!"

Felipe agreed. He mounted up the saddle of his pinto horse and saluted Juan, wishing him good luck.

"Thank you. We need all the luck we can get to sort this out!"


	9. Chapter 9

— **9 —**

**6:00 pm**

Alcalde De Soto had to admit defeat. His tired soldiers never caught up with the men that escaped from the hacienda, and they had wandered in the countryside for more than four hours already, without a clue on where the kidnappers could have taken Don Alejandro.

Sending the lancers on manoeuvres that day had been a very bad idea. The horses looked exhausted, the same as the men who rode them. For that reason, De Soto had split the group in two, sending the few soldiers with the fresher horses to explore the areas farther away. His group had run out of caves and abandoned buildings they could think of close to Los Angeles, and now, other than registering the private properties one by one, he didn't know where to look. But the soldiers had enough, and he would have to postpone the search until the next day.

Shaking his head, De Soto slowed down the pace. Mendoza joined him.

"Where to now, mi alcalde?"

"Back to the garrison," De Soto said, turning his horse. "This is totally pointless!"

"Pero mi alcalde, Don Alejandro…"

"If you have a better idea, please let me know, Sergeant," De Soto cut him off. "Look at your horse. If you don't let him rest, it's going to drop dead any time soon, and you'll have to return to the pueblo on foot."

Tired as he was, that prospect didn't appeal to the sergeant at all. He was worried about Don Alejandro, of course, but the alcalde was right: his horse needed a break. And they had run out of places to look, unless the kidnappers had taken their hostage much farther away, and that multiplied the possibilities wildly. They could never cover so much terrain before the night fell.

"Lancers! Back to the garrison!" Mendoza shouted, also defeated. _Let's hope the other group had better luck._

**6:29 pm**

Zorro cursed when he finally got to that spot on the road where they got attacked. As he feared, the soldiers had erased the kidnappers' prints with their own. He looked around, trying to remember his position before he lost consciousness. He cringed when he spotted the dry bloodstain still on the ground, _his blood_, and then followed the direction he saw the group of men heading to with his father: as he suspected, back to Los Angeles. But… where?

Diego didn't want to admit it, but Felipe was right: he felt far from "fine" to be out riding. His head hurt, he felt dizzy again, and it was a good job he had a head mask to cover the dressing still on his head, but the bandage made the hat fit quite tightly, making matters worse.

Without a clue on the kidnappers' whereabouts, Diego returned to the hacienda, hoping he could find something among the rubble in the library, because it could be important, and the only clue he might get.

**6:54 pm**

Sergeant Mendoza and a bunch of tired soldiers took a few tables at the tavern, dispirited. They did that quietly, without their typical, lively loudness. De Soto, not keen on socializing with anyone, opted for a quick drink at the bar.

"Alcalde, what happened? Where's Don Alejandro?" Victoria said, serving him a glass of brandy.

"I don't know," De Soto said harshly, gulping his drink down.

"What do you mean _you don't know_?" Victoria cried, indignant. "Why are you here then? Why don't you carry on searching?"

"Señorita Escalante, are you questioning my methods or my dedication?"

De Soto left the tavern at a brisk pace, ignoring Victoria's protest, and headed for his office. Victoria served the soldiers a bottle of wine on each table.

"Thank you, Señorita," Mendoza said. "Don't be so hard with the alcalde, _por favor_. He's trying, really. We had a rough day."

"Not as much as Don Alejandro!" she replied, bitter. "I can't believe you are giving up searching for him! You still have nearly two hours before dusk!"

"I'm sorry, Señorita, but we looked everywhere. Still, we didn't find a clue. As if he has dissipated into thin air… But don't worry, we'll carry on searching first thing in the morning."

"I can't believe this!" she said, slamming the bottle on the table. "Thank God Zorro will take care of this, as always!"

"I'm sorry, but…" Mendoza said, pathetically, but the enraged tavern owner was already gone.

"Don't worry, Sergeant. It's not your fault," Sepúlveda said. "The horses could not have walked another step without dropping dead. We'll continue the search at dawn, refreshed."

"Yes, we will," Mendoza said, serving himself a glass of wine he gulped down at once, followed by another one, with the bottle still in his hand.


	10. Chapter 10

—**10—**

**7:00 pm**

After so many hours in that dark cellar, the kidnappers served Don Alejandro some food and let him used a bucket as a toilet.

"How long will you keep me here?" Don Alejandro said when he finished the meagre meal.

"As I said before: as long as it takes," the leader said, taking the empty dish.

"Sitting on the cold, hard floor? Without a bed?"

"Would you prefer to stand all the time instead? Because I could hang you from those rings in the ceiling like a Pata Negra Ham."

Don Alejandro boiled in anger again. He could not stand that man.

"The message was delivered," the leader said then with a smirk, amused by Don Alejandro's irritation. "Let's hope your son moves fast so you can return home to your comfy bed as soon as possible. And in one piece…"

The kidnapper didn't tie Don Alejandro's hands again, but he took the candle with him.

"If you behave, I won't tie you again. But if you give me any trouble…"

He looked at the rings, raising an eyebrow, and then he left, locking the cellar's door behind him.

Don Alejandro was left alone in the dark again. Not keen on following orders, he carefully wandered around the room then, like a blind person, feeling everything with his hands, trying to find his bearings and anything useful to escape.

**7:26 pm**

Raúl got down to the ground floor again to have another drink and another chat with the beautiful tavern owner. The tavern was busy then, full of tired soldiers with long faces waiting for their meals. He approached Victoria at the bar.

"Señorita, can you tell me what's going on? Why are so many soldiers here?"

"Don Alejandro de la Vega got kidnapped today. The soldiers have been looking for him all day, but they didn't find a trace of his whereabouts."

"I delivered a parcel for him at his hacienda this morning. I didn't know he was missing."

"How could you?" Victoria said, looking at the silver pendant on a long chain, that had found its way out of his shirt.

Raúl realized she was looking at something, and looked down as well. _Sure I had buttoned up my shirt before coming down…_

"That's a nice pendant you have there," she said. "What does it say?"

Raul pulled from the chain to show her.

"_Quizás mañana_. It was my mother's."

"I bet she's very proud you are wearing it."

"I never met her. She died shortly after giving birth to me."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Please, forgive me."

"Why? You didn't know," Raúl said, tucking the pendant under his shirt again, out of sight. "It doesn't matter, don't worry."

"Señorita Escalante, could you please stop that chitter-chatter and serve my men?" the alcalde shouted, amused by the way she was paying attention to that young traveller. Hungry himself, he had returned to the tavern to order his own meal. "Don't you think they deserve a full meal and a jar of wine after a hard day's work?"

"Dinner will be ready in five minutes!" Victoria said, furious. "I didn't know the soldiers would all come here this evening instead of using the canteen. I figured you would be out searching for Don Alejandro until you…"

"Be careful, señorita, don't go there again," De Soto interrupted, with a warning finger pointing at her nose. "Bring my meal to my office. Thank you."

"She's busy. Why don't you stay here five more minutes and take it yourself?" Raúl said.

"I have work to do, but that's none of your business." De Soto turned to face Raúl, measuring him. "By the way, señor, have you paid the traveller's tax?"

"The _what_?"

"The traveller's tax. It's fifty pesos."

"I never heard of such tax. Fifty pesos? Are you kidding me?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" De Soto said, sternly, with a hand on his sword's pommel.

Raúl looked at Victoria for confirmation. She nodded.

"It's an abuse, I know, but I'm afraid you'll have to pay if you want to avoid trouble in this pueblo," Victoria said, her eyes throwing daggers at De Soto. "Excuse me, the soldier's _rancho_ should be ready now."

She left the counter and walked briskly to the kitchen.

"Well, one thing I don't need is trouble," Raúl said, handing De Soto a few coins.

"Not to me, you fool... I'm the alcalde!" De Soto said proudly, standing tall. "Mendoza!"

"Sí, mi alcalde?" the sergeant said, coming quickly from his table.

"Traveller's tax," De Soto said. He looked at other men sitting on tables at the back. "Them as well."

"They already paid, Alcalde."

De Soto grunted an unintelligible reply and returned to his office.

"Thank you, señor…" Mendoza said, taking the coins Raúl offered him.

"Alvarez. Raúl Alvarez."

"How long do you intend to stay in our lovely pueblo, señor Alvarez?"

Raúl looked at Victoria then, as she hurried to serve the meals, carrying several dishes in her hands at once. The hungry soldiers tucked in immediately.

"I don't know yet. Why? Does it matter?"

"Travellers are allowed to stay for five days. If you stay any longer, you'll have to…"

"Don't tell me: pay another tax?" Raúl interrupted.

Mendoza smiled sheepishly.

**7:56 pm**

Diego spend the next hour sorting out the mess in the library, helped by Felipe. He vaguely remembered a reference in one of Rafael's previous letters, but he needed to find it to confirm it. As fast as they could, while searching carefully and thoroughly, they put away the books and papers back in the shelves, until Diego found one of the letters he was looking for. It was the last letter Rafael had sent to his father in the post, three months ago.

Diego read it quickly. He stopped at the line he vaguely remembered: _When I find what I'm looking for, you'll receive a map, and the key will be the key._

It was a hint, but not totally helpful. He found more letters, and in all of them he found strange sentences, like hidden messages. All together, they pointed to the existence of that mysterious heir, but not in a single letter, and not clearly. Rafael was so paranoid, he probably thought the letters would be intercepted and read by the wrong eyes, so he had scattered the important information in them.

He read again the new letter, the one in the parcel. In that letter, Rafael asked Don Alejandro to use his good judgement, and find out if that young man was a true De la Vega and worthy of his fortune. Diego concluded the map, that was marked with the letters "S.D.", probably showed the location of a document that would officially recognize that young man as Rafael's heir, revealing his name.

Diego also realized the distribution of the written lines wasn't regular in the letters. He had always thought the abnormal pattern was one of his great-uncle's eccentricities, but now he had second thoughts.

"_The key will be the key_… What does it mean?"

Felipe shrugged his shoulders. He got the key, looked at it, and handed it to Diego, who inspected it carefully.

"There are some markings here, like tiny inscriptions. Let me see… Where's the magnifier?"

Felipe shrugged his shoulders again. He looked around at the remaining mess. No idea.

"It doesn't matter, it's probably broken. I'll get the one I have at the cave," Diego said, actioning the secret door again.


	11. Chapter 11

— **11 —**

**8:00 pm**

"Look, Felipe. There are numbers here: 3, 12, 8, 37…" Diego said at the cave, looking at the key shaft with the magnifier. He took pencil and paper and wrote down the numbers. "But, what does it mean?"

He looked at the letters. The paper was unusually thin in all of them, and all the sheets had the same size. That gave him and idea. He put two of them together, and looked through them, holding them against the light of a candle.

"I think this is a code."

He put all the letters together, and that way he got new sentences, joining words in a new way.

"Blimey. Rafael was really clever, look."

They read the new text. It revealed how Rafael had paid a special courier to deliver the map and the key. As Diego suspected, the map held the location of the legal document to declare Rafael's illegitimate son a De la Vega, and his only heir, but it wasn't clear what the map represented. His great uncle apologized for all the secrecy, once again stating he feared for his safety and for the life of his illegitimate child.

"Yes, but who's that man? What's his name?"

Felipe pointed at the paper Diego had jotted down the list of numbers on, and then at the new text, counting the words.

"I see what you mean! All right, let's try that: the… courier… is… my… heir… He… should… have… the… pendant… Wow. Well done, Felipe!"

Felipe smiled proudly, happy to help.

"We must find that young man. Would you recognize him?"

Felipe nodded.

"Do you know where he went?"

_"No. But he mentioned he had been riding for several days. And the parcel came from San Diego. Maybe he returned there."_

"San Diego… _S.D_, like in the map… That could be a map of San Diego then. Well, whoever he is, and wherever he went, right now our priority is finding my father. That man can wait for now. We'll find him later. Now, let's go back to the pueblo; the soldiers may have some news."

**8:17 pm**

In the pitch-black darkness of that cellar, Don Alejandro couldn't find his way. After banging his head on a low beam, he gave up on the escape attempt, but then, he couldn't find the way to the spot he was before. As he struggled to return, the cellar's door blasted open. His kidnapper walked down the stairs carrying an oil lamp, followed by another man.

"Don Alejandro, what are you doing?" he said with his irritating, condescending tone, shaking his head. He seemed happy to find his hostage in that compromising position, as if it was something he was expecting. "See? I knew I couldn't trust you."

He grabbed the old don by the back of his collar, and roughly dragged him back to the space he occupied before.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

Before he could answer, that man slammed him against the wall. Don Alejandro struggled, turning to defend himself, only to receive a hard punch below the ribs that took away his will to fight. With the help of another man, the kidnapper bonded his wrists tightly with a rope and hung him from a ring in the ceiling, as he had promised before.

"You could have rested nicely on the floor tonight, but no, you couldn't follow my simple instructions, could you? Now you'll spend the night hanging like a ham… Have fun!"

"_Cabrón_…" Don Alejandro mumbled, dazed by the blows, unable to stop himself.

"I'll ignore that, for now. The same as I'll ignore your other needs. _Buenas noches_."

They collected the jar with water and left, leaving Don Alejandro alone once again, in the dark, pulling from the rope in vain. With his shoulders aching already, he tried to mentally prepare for a long and painful night, wishing Zorro would make an appearance soon.

The masked hero was already taking a long time to find him, and he wondered why, because he knew one thing: they should be still quite close to the pueblo, as the ride while blindfolded had been relatively short. He didn't know where he was, but it had to be somewhere within an hour from the pueblo, or maybe a bit more, but less than two hours, for sure.

**8:48 pm**

"Diego! What are you doing here?" Victoria said when she saw him entering the tavern. "Are you alright? You should be resting."

"I'm alright, don't worry. Any news on my father? Did the soldiers find him?" Diego asked, looking around, feeling hopeful when he saw a few soldiers at the tavern already.

"No. They didn't find him. And they abandoned the search!"

"What do you mean?"

"I hope Zorro finds him soon, because they are not going to!"

Those words felt like a punch on the face. No, Zorro could not find him either, because he didn't have a clue this time.

Mendoza was still at the tavern, feeling sorry for himself, and quite drunk after all that wine he had ingested already. He heard Victoria complaining, so he approached Diego to apologize, quite unsteadily, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, Don Diego. We didn't find your father. And I'm sorry we couldn't continue the search, but we've been out on manoeuvres today and the horses were exhausted."

"Yes, I know, that's why you found me on the road to Santa Paula, remember? It's been a long day."

"Sure it has... But don't worry, we'll find him tomorrow. And maybe Zorro is on the case already."

Another blow. Well, at least the sergeant was right: Zorro _was_ on the case, but without a clue, and not feeling his best.

"Don Diego, what are you doing here?" the doctor said, approaching him from behind. "I ordered you strict rest, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. Sorry, Doctor, but I had to find out if we had any news on my father."

"Let me see that wound, please."

Diego sat down at an empty table, and the doctor removed the dressings covering his head. He looked satisfied with his previous work, and he didn't replace the bandage this time.

"That looks good. Are you still feeling dizzy?"

"Not so much now."

"And the headache?"

"Better. The ribs still hurt as much as before, though."

"That's why you should be resting, giving them time to heal."

"I'll return home in a moment. Thank you, Doctor."

After the doctor left, Felipe and Mendoza sat at Diego's table.

"Señorita, could you bring us three glasses of orange juice, please?" Diego said.

He nodded at Mendoza while looking at Victoria. She knew what Diego meant: the sergeant had already drunk past his limit.

"Yes, of course. I'll be back in a minute," Victoria said.

"I'm sorry, Don Diego, I…" Mendoza started again with the sincere_ from the heart_ drunk talk.

"It's alright, Sergeant. It's not your fault, don't worry."

Felipe pulled at his mentor's sleeve then. He had spotted Raúl, and was pointing at him, excited.

"_That's the courier!" _he signed.

"Are you sure?"

Felipe nodded. Of course he was sure!

"Sergeant, do you know that young man?" Diego said, already aware of the way Raúl was looking at Victoria. That was a bad start for the _character judgement_.

"His name is Raúl Álvarez. Nice lad, he paid the traveller's tax without much drama."

"Anything else you can tell me about him?"

Mendoza shrugged his shoulders.

"No."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Diego observed that young man for a while, pondering what should be his next move.


	12. Chapter 12

— **12 —**

**9:00 pm**

Luis, the leader of the gang that had raided the hacienda de la Vega, approached Raúl's table, and without asking for permission, he sat on the chair directly in front of him.

"I see you managed to reach your destination without much trouble, young man..."

"Excuse me, do I know you?"

"No, you don't, but I do. I've seen you before, in San Diego."

Luis took an empty glass from another table, also without asking, as if he owned the place. The two patrons sitting there complained, but they didn't say anything else when that man sent them a killer look. Instead, they stood up quietly and moved to another table, further away, sensing trouble brewing. The man turned again to face Raúl, serving himself a generous amount of wine from his jar.

"That's my wine, and whoever you are, I didn't invite you to it," Raúl said.

"What did you do with it?" the man said after he drank some of the wine.

"With what?"

"The parcel. You brought a parcel from San Diego, and you delivered it today, pony-boy. Or… didn't you? Did you keep it to yourself? In that case you won't get paid in full, will you?"

"I don't know what are you talking about," Raúl said, standing up to leave, but Luis grabbed his shirt in an iron fist and made him sit down again.

"Don't play games with me, muchacho. Where is it?"

"Señor, we don't want any trouble in here," Victoria said, coming to assist Raúl. "I suggest you leave my establishment now."

Until then, Diego had been watching the scene unfold from his seat, tense as a spring. When Victoria got involved, he stood up slowly, ready to step in, but Felipe grabbed his sleeve again to restrain him.

"Who gave you any part in this?" Luis said, but he let go of Raúl's shirt. "Go back to the kitchen where you belong, woman," he added, slapping Victoria's rear end.

"I beg your pardon?!" Victoria said, angry as hell. "How dare you?"

She grabbed the jar and splashed the red liquid onto that man's face. He looked at his wine-soaked clothes, incredulous, and then growled, out of control. He stood up, clearly not tolerating that kind of defiance, even less when coming from a woman, and lifted his right hand to slap her, but Raúl grabbed his arm to stop him, struggling with him.

"Leave the señorita alone! Don't you dare to touch her!"

The man turned quickly and used his free left hand to punch Raúl's jaw so hard he landed on the floor, dazed.

Before Diego could reach them, a wine-fuelled Mendoza, eager to do something right that evening, had already rushed to separate the men.

"Señor, you should leave the tavern now unless you want to spend the night in jail. This is a peaceful pueblo, and the alcalde doesn't tolerate this kind of behaviour."

Sepúlveda and some of the other lancers still present at the tavern backed their sergeant. The stranger backed off then.

"We'll continue this conversation another time, señor."

"Any time you want," Raúl said, all cocky and overconfident, but with a hand on his aching jaw.

As the angry man left the tavern, Victoria and Mendoza helped Raúl back on his feet.

"Thank you, señor Álvarez," Victoria said with a grateful smile. "You've been very brave."

"You think so?" Raúl said, smiling back.

"I'll warn you señor: if you are planning to take this any further, I will not hesitate to arrest you both for public disorder," Mendoza said.

"Sergeant, if you have to arrest anybody, start with that man, and leave my guest alone!" Victoria barked. "He's done nothing wrong!"

With the immediate crisis over, Diego sat down again, smiling at her fierceness, but not so much at the way she looked at the courier.

**9:25 pm**

Juan had almost covered two thirds of the distance to his destination when he stopped for a short break, already exhausted. He had left the hacienda in a hurry, on a new horse, so he didn't have any of his usual stuff with him, not even his canteen, but he didn't need to worry: Felipe, always on top of things, had been so clever to include some food and water in the saddle bags, beside all the letters and documents Diego gave him for the lawyer and the banker.

While inspecting the saddle bags, Juan also found a couple of loaded guns. Looking at those with apprehension, he hoped he would not need them at all.

After he ate the delicious _pan con longaniza_, he got up the saddle again to carry on, with the last light of twilight. It was going to be a long night of intensive riding. At least, that night he would enjoy the light of a full moon to find his way.

He shouldn't complain: it could be worse. Yes, it could be… raining.

**9:37 pm**

Diego had enough _observation_. What was Victoria playing at? Now she was all over that young courier, almost flirting with him, and he couldn't stand it anymore. Was she teasing him on purpose, to make him jealous? _Him_, Diego, not Zorro? No, it didn't make sense. Or… did it?

After Mendoza and the soldiers returned to the garrison, he approached Raúl's table.

"Good evening. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Don Diego de la Vega. Do you mind if I share the table with you?"

"Not at all, at least you are asking politely, unlike that jerk... Please, take a seat, Don Diego. My name is Raúl Álvarez."

They shook hands. Diego liked Raúl's handshake: firm enough, but not too much.

"Nice to meet you," Diego said.

"_Encantado de conocerle_. I delivered a parcel at your hacienda this morning, for Don Alejandro de la Vega. Are you his son?"

"Yes, I am."

"I've heard your father got kidnapped today. I'm sorry. I hope the soldiers find him soon, safe and sound."

"Thank you, me too. I have to ask you something that may help us on the search: did you know what was in that parcel?"

"Of course not. How could I? I only delivered it."

"Someone raided my home while looking for it today. They destroyed the whole place. Do you have any idea why?"

"No, but I was glad to deliver the parcel this morning in one piece."

"Are you a regular courier?"

"No. I've done this job before, but I don't like it. It's too dangerous. Many couriers get assaulted and killed by robbers each year. I guess I was lucky: a group of bandits chased me on the way here, but I was able to avoid them and escape. I rode not-stop for the last twenty-four hours to get here as soon as possible. Could my attackers be the same men that raided your hacienda and kidnapped your father?"

"I have no way to know, but yes, they could be the same men, I guess."

"And what about the man that harassed me here? He also asked for the parcel."

"Did he?" Diego said, frowning. He had missed that part of their conversation.

"If he bothers me again, I'll make him swallow a third of my sword!" Raúl boasted.

"Are you trying to impress me, like you do with the se orita?" Diego said, deeply sarcastic. "Look, if I was you, I'd stay away from that man. He looks dangerous."

Raúl looked at Victoria again, following her with his dreamy eyes as she cleaned up the tables, getting ready to close the tavern. Victoria looked back at them, and after a quick glance at Diego, she smiled at Raúl. Diego hated his infatuated, silly grin.

"You must know, so please, tell me: is the señorita engaged? Has she got a boyfriend?"

"You look way too young for her, but yes, she has a beau: Zorro."

"Zorro? Who's that?"

Diego had to smile. Everybody knew about Zorro in California!

"Where do you come from, if I may ask?"

"Peru. But I've lived in San Diego for the last two years."

"And you never heard of Zorro?"

"No. Wait... is that the dangerous criminal who hides his face under a black mask? I heard of him."

_Damn. I should invest in public relations_, Diego thought, not smiling anymore.

"Yes, but Zorro is not a criminal. He's the hero who fights injustice in this pueblo. And señorita Escalante is in love with him, sorry."

"Oh."

Forlorn, Raúl didn't say anything else for a while, until Diego continued with the interrogation.

"Can you tell me who gave you that parcel, and where?"

"A man asked for me specifically in San Diego to deliver it, but I never found out his name. I was busy with another job, so I couldn't do it immediately as he wanted me to. He insisted, and he offered to pay me quite well, so I agreed to do it at a later date, two weeks after he contacted me."

"Did you get paid for the job already?"

"The usual: he paid half of the fee then, with the rest of the money paid upon delivery of the receipt, retained at the bank."

"I see. Anything else you could tell me about that man?"

"No, other than I heard he got mugged the day I left San Diego. I don't know what happened exactly, but I think he was badly hurt."

"I think all of this is related. Someone didn't want you to deliver that parcel to my father, and they kidnapped him because of its contents."

"It looks like it, yes. Sorry I can't be of any more help. I really don't know what I carried in that parcel."

"You've been helpful enough, thank you. Now, if I was you, I would stay in my room with the door closed tonight. This isn't over."

Diego stood up and signed to Felipe to follow him.

"_Buenas noches, señor Alvárez_."

"_Buenas noches_. As I said, I hope the soldiers find your father soon."

"Thank you. _Buenas noches, Victoria_. Please, make sure you close all the doors and windows tonight."

"I'll do, Diego, thank you. Go home to rest, I'll see you in the morning."


	13. Chapter 13

— **13 —**

**10:00 pm**

"How long will you keep him here?" Don Emilio Aranda said.

"Until we get the money. And the paperwork," the kidnapper said. "As I keep telling him: for as long as it takes."

"I don't like this. I should never have agreed to this," Don Emilio said, anxious, pacing the room.

Don Emilio, one of the main landowners in Los Angeles, was in financial trouble, and when his distant cousin Tomás Aranda from Perú had approached him with his plan to get a part of a substantial inheritance, he had jumped in, lured by the money. A big mistake he regretted already.

"Too late."

"If anybody links me to Rafael and Consuelo de la Vega, we'll have the soldiers registering this property in no time at all!"

"You knew that risk when you agreed to keep Don Alejandro here."

"How is he? Does he know where he is?"

"He's been better…" the kidnapper said, with his psychopathic smile. "But I don't think he has a clue. Right now, he's tied up hanging like a ham, in the dark," he added, laughing.

"What? Hanging? Why?"

"Because he was trying to escape already when I left him loose... Listen, don't worry about that part of the operation. Keep calm, and act normal. It will be over soon."

"I don't want to cause Don Alejandro any harm. And for what I heard, you nearly killed his son Diego with that blow."

"As I said: too late to grow a conscience. The De la Vegas are pompous pricks that think they are above the rest of us. I don't feel any sympathy for them. If Rafael had divided his assets right, equally and fairly, none of this would be happening. But the old fart didn't want to give our family a single peso, money we are entitled to as much as they are. It's his fault."

"But it's not Don Alejandro's fault to be the recipient of that inheritance… Make him as comfortable as possible while he is here, please."

"You are too soft, _primo_."

"And you haven't got a heart, Tomás."

"You are probably right about that," Tomás said on the way to the cellar, laughing again.

**10:10 pm**

Don Alejandro was struggling. Hanging from that rope, barely touching the ground with the tip of his boots, he thought his aching shoulders could dislocate soon. He thanked God and the High Heavens when that obnoxious, cruel man returned and released that rope.

He fell to the ground then, spent, but he didn't mind. The cold, hard floor was much better than dangling in the air.

"I hope you will appreciate how comfortable the hard floor is now, in comparison," Tomás said, tying the end of the long rope to the ring on the wall, as he would do with a dog. "Try to rest now. I don't think we'll get any news from your son until the morning. And, please, don't give me another reason to hang you from the ceiling again, or I'll use your ankles."

As fast as he had come, he left again. Don Alejandro sighed, curling up on the floor, using his still bonded hands as a pillow. It would be a long, long night indeed.

_Zorro, where the hell are you?_

**10:38 pm**

"Don Diego, where were you? I prepared dinner for you, as you asked me to," Asunción said at their return to the hacienda.

"I'm sorry, Asunción. I should have told you: I went to the pueblo to find out if the soldiers had rescued my father. We had dinner at the tavern."

"Do you have any good news?"

"No, I'm afraid they didn't find him."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Don't worry, they'll find him in the morning."

"Thank you. I really hope so."

Diego looked around. The place looked much better now. The men had worked hard to fix some of the broken bits, including encasing the safety box back on the wall with fresh plaster, and had cleared most of the debris away.

"It took us a while, but it will look like new in no time at all," María said.

"You did a good job. I'll retire to rest now, thank you."

Diego waited until they were alone at the library, and as soon as he could, he actioned the secret door and disappeared through the gap with Felipe.

Diego immediately started to change into Zorro's clothes, removing his shirt.

_"What are you doing?"_ Felipe signed.

"That man will return, I know, and Victoria and Raúl will be in danger without the soldiers to protect them. And I have to find out what's going on. I believe Raúl, I don't think he knew what was in the parcel, and I don't think he knows anything about his father Rafael or the inheritance he is entitled to. However, the men that are after him know what's going on, and they are my only clue at the moment. I have to capture and interrogate them if I want to find my father."

_"What about this?" _

Felipe pressed Diego's sore flank, over the dressing covering his fractured ribs, but only hard enough to make him hiss in pain. Diego slapped that hand away.

"Please, don't do that again. It's not funny."

_"If you get into a fight, the bad guys won't spare your side, you know?"_

"They won't spare my father's life either," Diego said, determined, donning the black shirt.


	14. Chapter 14

— **14 —**

**11:00 pm**

"_Buenas noches, señor Álvarez_," Victoria said at the landing before she retired to her room. Raúl was the only guest at the tavern that night, and they were alone in the building.

"Call me Raúl, please."

"_Buenas noches_, Raúl. Once again, thanks for defending me."

"A pleasure, Señorita, but, actually, you defended me before I did by ordering that man to leave your tavern."

"I did, didn't I?" Victoria said, thinking about it, with a broad smile.

There was a brief moment of silence, when they just looked at each other. Then, she lowered her gaze. Flirting with him while Diego was there had been fun, but maybe she had gone too far, giving Raúl false hope. Besides, he was way too young for her. She liked more _mature_,older men, like Zorro, or even… Diego.

Raúl took her hands and his and made her look up.

"Don Diego de la Vega said you are in love with Zorro. Is that true?"

"Yes, I am, so please, don't get any funny ideas about me. It will be easier for you. Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression today."

Before Raúl could answer, they heard the characteristic noise made by a glass windowpane shattering in a thousand pieces.

"I'll get my sword," Raúl said.

As he walked into his room, a man entered the tavern through the broken window, and opened the front door to his comrade. Raúl returned to the landing with his sword, in time to see two threatening men climbing the stairs with their swords drawn and ready.

"Get behind me. Lock yourself inside your room," Raúl said, pointing at her door, the last one in the upper floor.

She stepped back, but stayed at the landing, watching horrified how the two men attacked Raúl at the same time. She thought about the loaded gun she had hidden behind the counter, but she would need to go downstairs to get it, and the thugs were on the way.

**11:10 pm**

When Zorro arrived at the plaza, he saw light coming through the tavern's front door, which was open, ajar, and he heard the distinctive clink-clank of blades engaged in a swordfight. He rushed into the tavern then, unsheathing his sword.

The young courier was fighting two men in the upper floor, protecting Victoria, who stood behind him. She tried to escape, squeezing by between one of the bandits and the balustrade, but when Raúl punched that man's face he bumped onto her, and she got pushed over the handrail. She cried while plummeting to the ground floor, but Zorro had already dropped his sword and had rushed to catch her in his arms.

"Victoria, are you alright?" he said after involuntarily hissing in pain, resenting his ribs again.

Shaken and in awe because she had avoided a harsh crash against the ground floor boards, she opened her firmly closed eyes to look at her saviour with gratitude, grinning broadly when she saw that masked face she loved so much. Of course, who else could have moved so fast to catch her?

"Yes, Zorro, _gracias_!"

He took her away from danger, to the bar, and lowered her down gently until her feet touched the ground. She hung from his neck and from his lips, with the longer kiss they had shared in weeks, until she let go of him reluctantly, regretting not to have time to get cosy in his strong arms. She retrieved Zorro's sword from the floor and handed it back to him.

"Help Raúl, please!" she said, pointing at the upper floor.

Zorro grabbed the sword she was offering and ran upstairs, as fast as his aching ribs allowed him. The young courier was holding his ground nicely, but when one of the bandits drew a gun, Zorro clanked it away from a side with a swift move of his Toledo blade.

**11:14 pm**

_Maldita sea! If you want to get something done, you have to do it yourself!_ Luis thought while waiting with the horses in the shadows of the plaza.

He had seen Zorro entering the tavern, and he figured his men were in trouble. He drew his gun and walked to the entrance, but before he got there, Toronado got on his way.

The black stallion reared, threatening Luis with his dangling hooves. The horse kicked the gun off his hand, but before he could do any more harm, Luis ran to the tavern's door, missing a rear kick by an inch.

Inside, Victoria had got the loaded gun she had hidden at the bar, under the counter, and was aiming at the bandits on the upper floor. Luis grabbed her petite body from behind, snatched her gun, and pulled it to her head.

"_Quietos todos!_" he cried.

Everybody stood still. Raúl and Zorro recognized that man: the one that had attacked Raúl before.

"Drop your weapons, and don't try anything cute or the tavern wench will kick the bucket!"

Zorro and Raúl looked at each other for a split second, and then dropped their swords at the same time. The bandit that got hit upstairs took revenge on the young man, knocking him out cold with a hard punch to the face. The other one tried to do the same with Zorro, but he wouldn't have it. The masked outlaw dodged the blow and the bandit hit the wall behind him instead, breaking his hand.

While everybody got distracted by his howling, Victoria elbowed Luis, crying:

"I'm kicking no bucket, Señor!"

She wriggled and slipped off from under his arm. Zorro saw a slim chance and quickly took advantage: he jumped over the balustrade, holding onto the chandelier's, and swung the whole structure toward the leader, who fired the gun, aiming high.

The bullet caressed Zorro's neck before he kicked that man's chest with both feet. Luis fell back, tipping a few bottles of wine from the counter, losing the gun. With the impulse, Zorro fell on top of him. They fought on the floor, rolling over the spilled wine and broken glass in a tangled mess of arms and legs, until Zorro got on top, knocking the bandit out with a mighty punch.

Zorro stood up, taking a gloved hand to his neck. His black leathered fingertips got wet, but he couldn't see the colour of that fluid. To make sure what it was, Zorro tentatively licked one fingertip: he tasted blood, not wine.

"Zorro! Are you alright? You are bleeding!" Victoria said, running to his side, confirming what he already knew.

"I'm fine, that bullet just scratched me, don't worry," he said nonchalantly. He really didn't want to think about how close it had been.

Right then, the alcalde rushed into the tavern with a bunch of soldiers, alerted by the commotion of the swordfight and the gunshot.

"Lancers, arrest Zorro!"

"Alcalde, as always, you're missing the point," Zorro said, eyes rolling. "You should be arresting these men, the troublemakers, not me."

"Arrest them all!" De Soto cried.

The lancers advanced with their swords up. Zorro's sword lay on the boards of the upper floor, so he used his whip to deter the lancers, keeping them at a distance while he climbed the stairs to retrieve it. He kicked the bandits upstairs out of the way, saluted his beloved from above, touching his brim, and carried on running, jumping over Raúl's unconscious body to reach the window at the other end.

"Lancers! Get him! Don't let him get away!"

But that was De Soto's wishful thinking, because Zorro always got away, no matter what, and that drove him insane.

_**A.N – I keep posting chapters, and you guys are reading the story, but hardly anybody is saying anything about it, which is a bit frustrating for me… Why is that? Maybe the chapters are too short in this format? I know there is not much in the form of inner thoughts but mostly descriptive action to keep the word count as low as possible this time, under 30K total, so maybe is that what you are missing here? More development in the story, or something else? Well, if you don't tell me, I can't fix it.**_

_**Thanks for reading. **_


	15. Chapter 15

— **15 —**

**12 am (midnight)**

The lancers dragged Raúl to the jail and dropped him in a cell on his own. They put the bandits into the adjacent one on the right, with the horse thieves Zorro had captured in the morning at the other side, on the left. When he woke up, Raúl moved to the further end of his cell, as far away as possible, out of reach from both sets of bandits, their abuse and their death threats, that continued for nearly half an hour, while he tried to ignore them, not engaging in any conversation.

"The moment I get out of here I'll kill you, _mequetrefe_. You and your masked friend," said the man with the broken hand at one point.

"Really? How's that so?" someone said from the shadows, close to the jail's entrance.

Raúl saw a black bulk moving, coming closer to the weak light provided by the candles outside the cells. It was Zorro, the masked bandit that had helped him at the tavern.

"You shouldn't be here, señor, sharing air with the scum of the earth," Zorro said, taking the key ring from the wall. He opened Raúl's cell while all the bandits complained. "Shut up! You all know you have more than enough reasons to be locked up in here!"

"We've done nothing. You attacked these men, and I only helped them," Luis said.

Under the black mask, Diego had to refrain himself. It wasn't the time to ask that scumbag what they had done with his father. But he would, soon. At least, now he had a lead.

"Come on, let's go," Zorro said, urging Raúl to the back door.

**12.32 am**

"Alcalde, open the door!" Victoria cried, banging at the alcalde's office front door.

"Señorita, it's late, go back to your tavern, please! I told you before: that young man will stay arrested for public disorder," the alcalde said from his office, behind the closed door. The last thing he wanted to do was to let that hysterical, demanding woman in.

"He's done nothing but defending me! Alcalde, I can't believe you have the nerve of arresting innocent citizens instead of arresting real criminals or finding Don Alejandro's kidnappers, as you should be doing!"

"Señorita Escalante…" De Soto hesitated with the hand at the lock, losing his patience. "I swear to God, go away or I'll arrest you as well, so you can share a cell with him!"

"Zorro will put you in your place soon, Alcalde!"

De Soto could not stand it anymore. He opened the door, but Victoria was already at the other side of the plaza, about to enter the tavern. He slammed the door shut, but he forgot to lock it again. He went back to his desk to carry on looking at the map of the territory, where he had marked all the places the soldiers had searched already.

"Don Alejandro, where the hell are you?" he mumbled while scrutinizing the map for suitable, hiding places. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you've been taken to Zorro's elusive, hiding place... wherever that is."

It would have been wonderful if, while searching, he had found the masked man hiding lair instead of finding Don Alejandro, but he had not been that lucky.

**12:45 am**

Zorro had a horse ready for Raúl's breakout, and after galloping away from the pueblo, they stopped when they were already at a safe distance.

"Go to the hacienda De la Vega. Don Diego will hide you until this mess is over," Zorro said.

"I don't think I can find my way back there in the dark."

Zorro pointed up to the sky, at the bright moon.

"Full moon tonight, but if you can't, I'll show you the way. Once on the right road, it will be easy."

Under the moonlight, Raúl followed Zorro cross-country through a shortcut, until they hit the main road.

"Follow this road for a mile and you'll get there."

"Thank you, Zorro."

"No, thank _you_ for helping señorita Escalante. Much appreciated."

Zorro touched his brim, turned his horse, and galloped away into the night, off-road. He had to hurry up if he wanted to be at the hacienda as Don Diego before the courier arrived there.

**12:52 am**

Diego jumped off Toronado, resenting his side again, and changed his clothes faster than ever. While quickly combing his hair back with his hands, looking at himself in the mirror, he spotted the shallow graze on his neck. He had forgotten about it.

_Damn. I have to cover that!_

He used a handkerchief as a gauze and used a silk blue lace as a cravat, pulling the shirt's white collar up, and tied a knot quickly. He looked ridiculously overdressed for that time of night, but he didn't know what else to do to cover that tell-tale wound. He ran upstairs to the secret entrance, in time to hear a knock on the front door.

"Señor Álvarez," he said on opening the door, feigning surprise. "What are you doing here at this time of night? Are you alright?"

"Zorro told me to come here. He said you could help me to hide from the alcalde."

"The alcalde? What have you done? All right, come in; if Zorro sent you here, he must have his reasons to do so."

"Thank you, much appreciated."

Diego closed the door behind him, and guided him to the library, where he continued grilling the young man for information until he took him to rest at one of the guest rooms. He wanted to tell him the whole story and who he really was, but decided to wait until his father was back home.


	16. Chapter 16

—**16—**

**1:00 am**

Tomás sneaked into the alcalde's quarters through the unlocked front door. De Soto was distracted then, looking at the bright full moon through the opposite window, with his right arm resting at the frame, wondering once again where Don Alejandro could be. He yawned, giving up, keen on having some rest. He didn't hear the man approaching, and by the time he saw the intruder's reflection in the window glass pane, it was too late. Tomás whacked De Soto's head with a bludgeon, and he dropped down to the floor, unconscious.

The kidnapper rummaged through the alcalde's files, until he found the folder containing the documents he was interested in. Then, he grabbed a candle and set it on fire. The papers burned quickly, producing large flames. Tomás dropped the folder, and then used the back door at the alcalde's office to walk into the jail, with the bludgeon ready to repeat his offensive move. However, it wasn't necessary, because he found the soldiers guarding the jail already unconscious. Surprised, he just walked over their inert bodies, and entered the room to get the keyring hanging at the wall.

"What the hell happened?" Tomás said, addressing Luis. "You had an easy job to do, but you can't follow instructions, can you?"

"That bloody Zorro helped him at the tavern! Just open the damn door, will you?"

"Where is he?" Tomás said, scanning the room. "I thought he was locked up in here with you."

"Zorro helped him to escape," said the man with the broken hand. "Come on, open the door."

When Tomás opened it, Luis got out first, running past him.

"Thank you, Tomás, I owe you one!"

"What about us?" said one of the horse thieves.

"Save yourselves," Tomás said, tossing the keys to the floor, in front of their cell door, but out of reach.

"Dammit, man, don't do that!"

The bandits ignored them and got out of there as fast as they could, following Luis.

**1:13 am**

"I can't believe these people are asking for a million pesos," the banker at Santa Paula said. "It's simply not possible, I don't have that amount of funds at the bank in cash!"

"Don Diego said if we don't return with the money within 24 hours, the kidnapper will kill Don Alejandro," Juan said.

The lawyer read the letter again.

"But I don't know why do I have to travel to Los Angeles with you tonight. What can I do differently? I don't have any money."

"I have no idea, but the kidnappers insisted to get you both. It says that on that letter, clearly."

"It could be a trap," the banker said. "They may kidnap us as well."

"I don't think so, and we are wasting precious time here arguing," Juan said.

"Look, I consider Don Alejandro my friend, but what you are asking me to do is crazy. It's not possible," the banker insisted. "Not even with gold as currency."

"I'll take you there with the money dragging you by the ear, if I have to!" Juan said, desperate, pulling a gun at them.

"What are you doing?" the lawyer said, recoiling.

"I don't want to do it this way, but you are giving me no choice!" Juan said, biting more than he could chew. He looked too nervous to be considered a real threat, not by an experienced man like the banker, who had seen his fair share of real criminals.

"Don't be ridiculous!" the banker said. "Put that gun away or you won't see a peso!"

"How do we know you are nothing but another thief?" the lawyer said.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to give you the wrong impression, but this is real, and it's a matter of life and death!" Juan said, lowering the gun, embarrassed. "You must come to Los Angeles tonight, please. With as much money as you can gather."

"Alright. As I said, Don Alejandro is a dear friend of mine, and you must be a loyal worker to be doing this," the banker said. "Let me see the amount of funds we have at the safety vault. Wait here, please."

**1:32 am**

_"Where do you think you are going?"_ Felipe asked Diego when he walked through the secret passage, back to the cave. He followed him downstairs.

"I have to return to the pueblo. I must talk to the men that attacked Raúl. Please, stay here and keep him safe. As a last resort, hide him in here at the cave if you must, but I hope we don't ever have to do that."

When Diego removed the cravat and the white shirt, Felipe came closer to inspect the new wound on his neck."

_"How did you get that?"_

"A stray bullet."

The youngster looked at him sternly, and started to agitate his arms like crazy, in a mute, harsh admonition of sorts.

"Look, Felipe, stop acting like my mother, please. It's too embarrassing," Diego said, donning the black shirt again. "I really have to go. I'll be more careful this time, all right?"

_"Aren't you tired? Because you look exhausted."_

"Of course I'm tired. It's been a long, awful day. But it hasn't finished yet."

When he was ready, he got on Toronado, who still had all his tack on.

"By the way, you should get some rest. Make the most of my absence, please."

**1:36 am**

Mendoza could not sleep. After all that wine, he felt a bit dizzy, and he was too worried about Don Alejandro, still feeling guilty because they didn't find him. Bothered, he left the barracks to get some fresh air outside.

At the garrison's patio, he looked at the alcalde's office window. The alcalde was still up, and he admired his dedication. Despite what señorita Escalante could think, that man was no slacker. But the light coming off that window was abnormally bright… Then he saw the flames.

"FIRE! FIRE!" Mendoza screamed at the top of his lungs. "Lancers! Bring water immediately! FIRE!"

Mendoza ran across the patio to get to the office back door. He pushed to open it, but it was locked from the inside. Desperate, he banged it with his shoulder repeatedly until the hinges of the lock gave way and the door burst open.

"Madre de Dios!" he cried when he saw the alcalde unconscious on the floor. The flames were already reaching his boots, but he didn't react to the heat.

Mendoza grabbed him under the shoulders to drag him across the room to the front door, which was still open, and he got him out to the plaza, coughing due to the smoke.

The lancers had mobilized by then, and they ran around carrying buckets, some half-dressed in their uniforms, others still in their underwear and nightgowns.

"Form a human chain from the fountain!" Corporal Sepúlveda said, coordinating the soldiers' efforts. _"Vamos, rápido!"_

**1:45 am**

"I destroyed all the records about the Aranda's family," Tomás said, back at Don Emilio's hacienda. "Are you happy now?"

"What have you done?"

"Burning the records at the alcalde's office. I may have burned the whole place as well, who knows," he said, laughing.

"And don't you think that will bring attention to our family? You are crazy."

"Don't be stupid: I burned the whole folder, not only your record. Now, I don't think anybody will link you to my aunt Consuelo in Lima, don't worry."

"What about Rafael's son?"

"We still want to know where's that document that Rafael wrote to declare him a legitimate child, before we kill him and make the swap. But these idiots are not doing their job properly!"

Luis looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

"I'll find out. But I need more time."

"No, you had enough chances already. If one wants to have something done, he has to do it himself," Tomás said, using similar words to Luis before. "Now, I'll retire to bed. Remember, we'll get up at dawn to meet the money coming from Santa Paula. They should be close to Los Angeles by then. Understood? Tell your men: at dawn."


	17. Chapter 17

—**17—**

**2:00 am**

When Zorro arrived at the pueblo, the soldiers were still carrying buckets, putting out the last flames. Mendoza was at the plaza, looking at the half-burned office, desolated like a lost child.

"Sergeant Mendoza, what happened?" Zorro said.

"Zorro! How good to see you! Someone attacked the alcalde and set his office on fire."

"Where is he? Is he all right?"

"He's at the tavern. I don't know if he has woken up yet."

"Where are the prisoners?"

"They escaped... I'm so sorry, Zorro."

"All of them?" Zorro said, cross.

"Yes. The jail is empty. I checked because the fire was getting too close. All the cells were opened, and the two lancers guarding them were unconscious on the floor."

Zorro clenched his jaw then, ashamed. That was his fault. Maybe he had hit the soldiers too hard this time.

"Are the lancers all right?"

"Yes, they are fine, thank you. Luckily, we had no casualties."

Zorro walked to the tavern then, with the sergeant in tow. De Soto sat at one of the benches, awake now, coughing and looking miserable. Victoria was with him, pouring a jar of cool water over his head. He reeked of smoke.

"Señorita," Zorro saluted, bowing slightly. She smiled, rolling her eyes while nodding at the alcalde, behind his back.

"Alcalde! You are awake!" Mendoza said.

"What are you doing here?" De Soto said, looking at Zorro, obviously irritated by his presence.

"I'm trying to help. Do you have any idea who did this?"

"I saw a man… Well, not clearly… But I don't know who he was. I'm only sure of one thing: he wasn't you. Or at least, not you in your black outfit."

"Do you know why did he set your office on fire?"

"What?"

De Soto stood up and headed for the door, alarmed, but he was too dizzy and staggered, out of balance. Mendoza and Zorro held him up before he hit the floor, taking him back to the bench.

"Alcalde, how many fingers I'm holding?" Mendoza said, waving three fingers in front of his face.

"Knock it off!" De Soto growled, annoyed, pawing at that hand. "I'm all right!"

"You don't look the part, Alcalde," Zorro said. He knew first-hand how dizzy a man could feel after a hard blow to the head, and how bad the associated headache was. Which reminded him that he should stop hitting the soldiers on the head so carelessly.

"Mendoza, what happened? Was my office really set on fire? Is that the reason why I stink like a chimney?"

"I'm afraid so, mi alcalde. We just controlled the fire. The flames were about to engulf your legs when I got you out of there at the last second."

De Soto looked at his damaged soles. The sergeant had a tendency for exaggeration, but he was probably right this time. It must have been very close, because he had no burns, but his feet felt still very warm inside those charred boots.

"While you recover, I'll have a look to check if your attacker took anything from your office," Zorro said.

"Set a foot at my office and I'll have you arrested!" De Soto cried, with the stroppy attitude and tone of a child with a tantrum.

"Alcalde… after all this time trying, you should have figured out you'll never succeed arresting me," Zorro said playfully, irritating his nemesis even more. "I'm only trying to find where the kidnappers took Don Alejandro de la Vega. I know you failed to find any clues on his whereabouts, but I think all these recent events are related to that."

"How do you know that? You weren't even there," De Soto said.

"I'm Zorro. I know everything that happens in this pueblo. You should also know that by now."

"Zorro is only trying to help, Alcalde," Victoria said, unable to keep quiet any longer. "And do your job for you, as he had done so many times before."

"Thank you, Señorita," Zorro said, nodding, air-kissing her before he left the tavern.

De Soto growled, frustrated. Victoria poured another jar of cold water over his head, increasing his exasperation.

**2:23 am**

At the office, Zorro quickly realized one of the folders were missing. In the middle of the shelf, the empty space left by the missing item was too hard to miss.

The remains of the burnt folder lay on the floor. Part of the closest furniture and the curtains had burned as well, but not the shelf with the remaining folders: they were all intact. Or they would have been, if they had not been drenched in gallons of water, as the soldiers had emptied dozens of buckets into the office through the windows, aiming randomly at the flames, flooding the whole place.

De Soto entered the office with Mendoza's help, unwilling to be relegated from that first inspection of the damage caused to his property.

"_Mierda_," he said when he saw the state of that room, with pieces of furniture and wood fixings still fuming spirals of grey smoke, and other parts totally soaked and covered in a slimy mixture of wet ashes. If he wasn't already so dizzy, that vision would have sent him into a frenzy vertigo.

"Alcalde, so good of you to join me here," Zorro said. "Can you tell me what's missing from that bookshelf, please?"

De Soto came closer, aided by Mendoza, and scanned the volumes on the shelf.

"The missing folder contained personal information of citizens in Los Angeles. It was the first volume, in alphabetical order. From A to F. My predecessor was very… meticulous."

"Why would anybody burn that?" Mendoza said

"Why, indeed…" Zorro said, looking at the half-burned map. "What's this?"

"Are you blind? It's a map."

"Yes, Alcalde, I can see it's a map of Los Angeles. What are those markings?"

"I marked all the places we searched today while looking for Don Alejandro."

Zorro inspected it closely.

"You didn't check any of the properties."

"No, my intention was to check all the haciendas and buildings today, as we didn't find him at the caves and natural hiding places. Could he be at your hiding place, wherever that might be?"

"Of course not, or I wouldn't be here missing on my beauty sleep," Zorro said, grinning. Mendoza couldn't help but chuckle then, earning a stern look from De Soto.

"Alcalde, do you have a list of all the dons and the most relevant citizens in this pueblo?" Zorro asked. "I think Ramón had one. He liked to keep an eye on them."

De Soto looked in another folder. He extracted a soaked piece of paper carefully.

"Like this one?"

"Yes, that's perfect," Zorro said, reading it. "Can I copy this on a dry paper?"

"Mendoza," the alcalde said, nodding to the back door.

The sergeant left the room promptly, and retuned shorty after with ink and paper. Zorro copied the list quickly.

"All right. I must go now. Take care, Alcalde."

"Zorro, where are you going?" De Soto said, but the black masked man was already gone.

**2:37 am**

Zorro returned to the tavern. Victoria had closed all the doors and windows again, except one: the window the bandits broke that evening. Zorro had no trouble entering the building through that open gap.

Victoria was wiping off the splashes of water from the table and the floor, and didn't hear him approaching silently as a ghost. He smiled when he saw the hammer and some boards on another table, ready to be used. Victoria was resourceful and self-sufficient, and he loved her for that.

Without a word, he grabbed her arm to jerk her around, and kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, a delayed reaction of jealousy and possession after all the attention she had given to Raúl that day.

Surprised, her initial reaction was to fight him off, hitting his chest with both fists, but when she realized that wasn't an assault, she melted in her lover's arms.

"Victoria, are you sure you are all right? I didn't have much time to ask you before," he said when he let go of her lips, caressing her face and hair.

"Yes, all thanks to you," she said, smiling broadly. "How do you do it? How do you always manage to be at the right place and at the right time?"

"One of my many talents," he said, kissing her again, holding her head gently in his gloved hands.

"Oh, yes, you do have many talents," she murmured, enjoying his eagerness so much. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. He was always in a hurry.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now."

He hated her disappointed face, so he gave her an encore, in the form of a slow, sweet and tender goodbye kiss.

"I really have to go, _mi amor_."

He tried again to get away from her, but as if pulled by a giant magnet, he came back for another exchange.

"You drive me crazy… Please, let me go. _Por favor_."

That made her laugh.

"Really? I didn't tie you down, or nailed you to a table with that hammer, although, that's not a bad idea," she said, finding his mouth one more time, pulling him closer, only too keen to carry on.

He whimpered, frustrated. He couldn't go away, and he was getting too aroused to stop at kisses, using his hands to shamelessly fondle her firm derrière while his tongue engaged hers much deeper than before, urgently, almost hurting her.

To his surprise, she didn't complain, moaning with positive delight, and that spurred him further. One of his bold hands wandered up to her bosom, over her clothes, and rather than slapping him, as could be expected, she left his mouth and arched her body, leaning back with her eyes closed, giving him full access to her breasts. While still holding her rear end with one hand, he clumsily opened her top with the other and kissed her cleavage, diving in. She removed the hat that was clearly on the way, bothering her neck, and held his masked head between her hands, guiding him to find one of her budding nipples. When he did, she moaned louder, melting at the touch of that wet, audacious tongue.

Then, before he would go any further, he knew he had to make a painful decision.

He suddenly stopped suckling, abruptly, and let go of her. As much as he wanted to carry on and take her right there, over one of the tables, he really couldn't cross that line. He couldn't dishonour her as an outlaw, out of wedlock, even less with a pair of broken ribs that were already telling him to give up.

"I love you too much for this," he said, out of breath with the excitement, using all his willpower —and some borrowed one— to avert his eyes from that perfect, naked breast. He picked up the discarded hat, and headed for the door. There, he turned around to face her again. She had already repositioned her clothes prudishly, deeply embarrassed, for the first time fully conscious of what had happened there, or rather, what didn't happen.

"Please, nail those boards to that window. You don't want any more intruders tonight. And, by the way, don't worry about Raúl. He's safe."

He hated the way her face brightened up at the mention of that name.

"Is he? Thanks. Where is he?"

"Somewhere safe. That's all you need to know. Good-bye, _mi preciosa señorita_."


	18. Chapter 18

—**18—**

**3:00 am**

After he calmed down a bit, controlling his racing heart and his respiratory rate back to normal, Zorro inspected carefully the hoof prints around the jail. He found a track, belonging to the men that escaped, but in the dark, he lost it shortly after leaving the pueblo.

He was cross for missing the chance of interrogating those bandits while they were locked up in jail, but Zorro wasn't clairvoyant to know the future. He was only a man, and a very exhausted one at that point.

How could he know they would escape and set the alcalde's office on fire to get rid of evidences or some kind of incriminatory clues?

_Maldita sea_ _mi estampa_. _Qué cagada._

He returned to the hacienda De la Vega then, hoping the list he kept rolled under his shirt would give him any fresh ideas.

**3:30 am**

Felipe wanted to stay awake at the library, waiting for Diego, but his eyes had closed and he had fallen asleep on his armchair. When Diego arrived, he didn't want to disturb him, but when he looked for a map of the territory —one quite similar to the half-burnt map the alcalde had at his office— he made some noise, and the youngster woke up, startled.

_"What happened?"_ he signed after rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"The bandits escaped from jail. I still don't know who they are, or where they are."

Diego sat in one of the armchairs, looking shattered. He looked at the map, and at the list where he had marked the people with surnames starting with a letter between the A and the F, citizens that should have been in that missing folder. Then he got on with the task of marking their properties in the map.

When he finished, he wanted to study it, but his eyes kept closing, and after a couple of uncontrollable, jaw-luxating, wide yawns, he fell asleep, totally worn out.

Felipe took the map off his hands, careful not to disturb him, and covered him with a light blanket. Then he curled up on his armchair again and fell back asleep almost immediately.

**3:46 am**

Victoria couldn't sleep. She wished she could, because it was so late, but she couldn't. Partially, because she was so worried about Don Alejandro, but mainly because she couldn't shake off the feeling of Zorro's hands, lips and tongue, or his taste, that lingered in her mouth —not that she wanted to.

She kept reliving the delicious moment over and over in her head, like a never-ending loop.

What had made him so eager and bold that night? She didn't know, or… did she? She had noticed how his jaw had tensed and how his lips had straightened, losing the smile, when she looked so happy about Raúl's wellbeing. Was Zorro jealous of her behaviour that day? If that was the reason for his unusual passion, how did he know about it? Maybe he was at the tavern at some point that day to watch her flirt with that young man… like Diego —the main object of her teasing— was?

A disconcerting thought crossed her mind, as it had done many times before, but she dismissed it quickly. No, Diego, could not be Zorro. She would have known.

_You are such a fool,_ she scolded herself. Or… a genius, for spurring Zorro like that, in the right direction. Maybe she acted a little easy, or she should say _slutty,_ but… She smiled then, relaxing.

Yes, _a genius_. It sounded much better than _a_ _fool_. Or a _slut_.

**3:58 am**

At the other side of the plaza, at his quarters, De Soto couldn't sleep either. He was dizzy, he had the mother of all headaches, and he was very intrigued by Zorro's actions.

What was the masked bandit going to do now? And how did he know so much about Don Alejandro's kidnapping and what was going on?

A few hours ago, while looking for clues, he had wished Zorro could take over the investigation and save the day, as he always did, but… that was so embarrassing! He shouldn't rely on a criminal to do his job, as the petite tavern owner had pointed out so rightfully, but... that man had so many talents he could be the reincarnation of Leonardo da Vinci. And he hated him for it. Specially his cockiness, like his conviction that he will never be arrested, or indeed, unmasked. The nerve that bastard had to rub it in!

He sat up to drink some of the bark infusion Doctor Hernández had ordered him to take for the pain and the inflammation, and then lay down again, sinking his aching head on the pillows.

He hated Zorro, whoever he was. He hated him so much!


	19. Chapter 19

—**19—**

**4:00 am**

Despite the realization that lying on the cold hard floor, was much better than hanging like a Spanish _Ibérico _ham, Don Alejandro couldn't sleep. His whole body ached, up to his eye-lashes, and he was exhausted, but sleep still eluded him.

For the umpteenth time, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, one of the few parts of his body he could still reach with his hands bonded. He really had enough.

_Zorro, where the hell are you? This is beyond the joke now!_

**4:24 am**

Juan jerked, waking up. He was dreaming of a comfortable rocker chair, and he felt as he was sitting in one, but no, he was still on a horse, riding back to Los Angeles under the moonlight, and amazingly enough, he hadn't slipped off the saddle while having a nap at a slow canter.

He looked around, a bit disoriented. Beside him, the banker and the lawyer travelled with the money inside a closed carriage. As a safety precaution, the banker had got the help of four security guards on horses, all heavily armed with weapons, and he had more guns inside the carriage.

"Man, you'll break your neck if you keep nodding off like that…" the carriage driver said from his high seat. "Do you want to ride up here with me?"

"Can I? Thanks, I'm so tired. I've been all day branding cows at a round up, and then I rode all the way to your pueblo from Los Angeles. I really could do with some sleep."

"Tie your horse at the back," the driver said, slowing down to a halt.

"Why did you stop?" the banker said, showing his head through the window.

"Some logistics, Sir. Don't worry about it," the driver said.

"What?"

"Nothing, Sir. All good," one of the security guards said, aware of the situation. He had also seen how Juan had fallen asleep on his horse.

Juan climbed up to the driver's seat, thanking him again, and they continued travelling. He wanted to stay awake, but after a few brief exchanges with the driver, he fell asleep.

When he started snoring, leaning on his shoulder, the driver regretted having a good heart, because they still had at least three more hours to arrive to their destination.

**4:39 am**

Another person that couldn't sleep that night was Luis, a petty thief and notorious brawler from Lima. Upset with that other man, Tomás, who was taking over the operation, he had the feeling everything was falling apart. Joining forces with that crazy bastard to get a piece of Don Rafael's fortune had been a big mistake.

Luis's brother was a clerk. He worked for Alfonso Sánchez, the lawyer from Lima. Thanks to him, Luis had known about Rafael de la Vega for a long time. He knew about his wealth and about his declining, ill health, and during the last two years he had used his brother to spy and gather information, thinking on ways to get some of the old man's money. A few months ago, he found out Rafael's lawyer had employed a private investigator years earlier to find a missing heir, whom they had located in San Diego, in California. That had given him an idea: he could get rid of that young man and replace him with another one to claim to be that heir. He figured that swapping heirs would be the best way to get his hands on that inheritance, and he had the best candidate for the job: his own son.

After Rafael died, the lawyer had caught Luis red-handed the next day when he broke into his office to look at his personal files, and the thief had killed him accidentally in the struggle that followed. That day, he found out that a man called Raúl Álvarez was meant to carry a parcel to Los Angeles, addressed to Rafael's nephew, Don Alejandro de la Vega, and that the parcel contained the information and identity of the missing heir.

He had previously found out that the relatives of Rafael's wife had their own agenda to get a part of the cake. Aware of the fact his plan of swapping heirs had many holes, Luis had joined forces with Tomás, Consuelo's nephew, a dangerous man involved in murky matters and shady deals, and when he had to flee Lima, he did so with a bunch of Tomas's men, heading for San Diego to stop the courier. By the time they got there, that young man had already departed, and beating up the private investigator to death didn't help to get any more information. They had nearly caught up with the courier on the way to Los Angeles, but the weasel had managed to escape and deliver his parcel nonetheless.

And now, after all this time, he still didn't know what the parcel contained; how to find the missing heir or how to make his son an official, legitimate one; and they had Don Alejandro de la Vega, a distant relative of the king, kidnapped in a cellar. He had already killed two men, and Tomás had nearly burned the alcalde alive at his office… If he was ever caught, he would hang at the gallows the next day.

No, he couldn't sleep. And he regretted the day he first heard about Rafael de la Vega.

_**A.N – I'm sorry if you found the last two chapters a bit boring, but tbh, finding something for the characters to do in 1820 in Los Angeles, at a time without electricity, between 3 and 5 am, was a bit difficult. Even Diego is sleeping a bit, poor guy. **_

_**I promise there will be much more action in the upcoming chapters. Nearly there now, only five more to the end.**_


	20. Chapter 20

—**20—**

**5:00 am**

Diego stirred on his armchair. He woke up with a sore neck and head, and with his ribs hurting so much every time he breathed, he wondered how he had managed to fall asleep at all.

He looked at Felipe, curled up in the armchair in front of him, and he had to smile. The youngster had covered him with a light blanket, but he hadn't bothered to get one for himself. Diego stood up, as silently as he could, and covered Felipe with his blanket. The boy stirred a bit, rolling his hands under the fabric, getting cosy, and carried on sleeping, oblivious to the world.

Diego got the map from the side table and carried on where he had left. He calculated the most probable trajectory of the hoof prints he had followed from jail, and selected the properties located on that area of the map. Only two of those haciendas had owners with surnames starting with the first few letters of the alphabet: the Arandas, and the Figeroas.

He looked at the location of Don Emilio Aranda hacienda, and he had a strong feeling on his chest, like a powerful hunch: that was the place. He just knew.

Then, he remembered what he had forgotten: Consuelo de la Vega's née name was Aranda. That could be the link. The Arandas in Los Angeles could be distant cousins of her demanding relatives in Lima, the ones Rafael mentioned in the letter, the ones harassing him. If connected, it could be a reason for them to kidnap his father and ask for such ridiculous, outrageous ransom.

"Yes!" he exclaimed, excited, waking Felipe up.

_"What?"_ the youngster's sleepy eyes said when he looked at him.

"I'm sorry to wake you up Felipe, but I think I know where my father is: at the Aranda's. That was my great aunt Consuelo née name, Aranda. They could be the demanding relatives Rafael mentioned in the letters, with a reason to kidnap my father. How did I miss that?"

_"What are you going to do? Get the soldier's help?"_

"No, you do that. Go to the garrison and alert the lancers. Tell them that I had remembered my great aunt Consuelo's surname, and that I suspect my father could be there, at the Aranda Hacienda. In the meantime, I'll sneak into that house as Zorro."

_"You should wait for the soldiers!" _

"No, this is my best chance, while they are asleep, before dawn. Otherwise, they may harm my father. Ah, you can also tell the alcalde they should escort the banker and lawyer from Santa Paula at their arrival at Los Angeles, just in case. If Juan got there in time, they shouldn't take long to arrive now. The kidnappers may try to rob all that money in transit, before they get here. The lancers should meet them at the road to protect them. Now, wish me luck!"

Diego disappeared through the secret door at the fireplace, leaving a still half-asleep Felipe behind. The youngster shook his head, wondering where Diego got all that stamina from, because he felt so drained of energy, he wondered how he was going to ride to the pueblo and convince the soldiers to follow Diego's plan. Tricky. At least, he should bring along a portable blackboard to make sure they understood his signs.

**5:45 am**

The first two places Zorro checked when he arrived at the Hacienda Aranda, were the barn and the stables. Don Alejandro wasn't there, but he saw an abnormally large number of horses crammed at the stables, a clue that forewarned him the house was full of men. Most worryingly, a young groom was already preparing the horses, getting their saddles and bridles on. And Zorro knew where the men would probably head: to rob the banker on his way to Los Angeles. The first light of twilight told him he didn't have much time before dawn, so he had to hurry up before the men got up.

Approaching the main building, he saw two rough-looking men guarding the house. Everything was quiet otherwise. Avoiding the guards, he found an unsecured window on the ground floor, that he used to enter the house unnoticed.

The first room he wanted to check was the cellar, the most likely place to keep a hostage under control and out of sight. He found the cellar's door close to the kitchen, secured with a brand-new lock. He smiled when he saw the key hanging from a nail on the wall beside the door frame. Obviously, they didn't think anybody would come to the rescue, at least not yet.

He unfastened the padlock, and as silently as he could, he pushed the door open, but it creaked a bit, its sound amplified in the stillness of the night. Zorro stood still, listening.

As nothing happened, he looked inside. The cellar was dark and uninviting, and he could hardly see the steps.

A fire was still smouldering in the kitchen. He found a candle and lit it up, covering the light of the flame with his hand. He grabbed the lock, because the last thing he wanted to do was to get easily trapped and locked in there, and went downstairs, walking carefully.

His father saw him first, his eyes totally used to the pitch-black darkness.

"What do you want now? Torture me again?" said that voice Diego knew so well.

That comment made his stomach turn. Zorro wanted to run to the pathetic looking, motionless figure that sat on the floor with his back against the wall, tied up to a ring like a dog. He needed to hug him, feel his warm and reassure him everything was going to be fine, but he wasn't there as his son, so he refrained himself from doing so.

"I came to rescue you, Don Alejandro. Are you all right?"

"Zorro!" his father said when he moved closer and he recognized his dark clothes. "I've been waiting for you all night! Thank God you are here!"

Zorro lifted the candle close to the old man to survey the damage quickly. He had a swollen, bleeding nose, a black eye and bruised jaw, and the rope was digging badly at his wrists. Anything else under his clothes, he would have to tell him.

Angry as hell, Zorro cut the rope carefully with his dagger, hating the guts of the kidnapper. There was no need to beat his father up like that!

"Can you walk?"

"I don't know. I think so, but I'm so stiff sitting here my legs might not cooperate much, sorry."

"Come on, I'll help you. We have to move fast, because they are getting their horses ready. They'll be up soon."

Zorro pulled from his arms to help him up. As he said, his father was very stiff, but he managed a few tentative steps with Zorro's support.

"That's it, come on, let's go upstairs."

When he passed that shaky, weak arm over his shoulder, his father complained badly, so he stopped, concerned.

"What's hurting you? Tell me, where?"

"The shoulders… They are really sore. That bastard left me hanging from a rope from the ceiling for a while, probably two hours. But don't worry about it, just drag me upstairs as fast as you can, and get me out of here, please."

Zorro had to put all that disturbing information to a side to keep a cool head. Otherwise, he was getting so upset it would be easier for him to make mistakes, seeking revenge foolishly.

Don Alejandro also hissed in pain when Zorro passed his arm around his waist, but, as his own ribs hurt so much as well, he followed his senior's instructions and just dragged him upstairs as fast as he could go. At the kitchen, he blew the candle off, and continued to the back door in the dark, thinking on a way to neutralize the man guarding it, but his worry wasn't necessary: before they could get that far, a man got on their way.

"Stop right there!"

Zorro recognized him immediately: the bastard that had kidnapped and tortured his father.

"Where do you think you are going, Don Alejandro?" Tomás said, with his hideous smile.

In such close contact with his side, Zorro felt his father flinch in fear at the sight of that man, and his anger increased tenfold.

"INTRUDER!" Tomás shouted then at the top of his lungs.


	21. Chapter 21

—**21—**

**6:00 am**

With not much time to think, Zorro acted on instinct. He let go of his father and attacked that man with furious punches that helped release some of his rage. Tomás fell, knocked out, but several men came out of the rooms and flooded the wide corridor. Zorro got his whip, grabbed his father's arm again and pulled roughly, dragging him forward while he fought his way with stinging lashes, that got the men momentarily out of the way, at least for long enough to squeeze by and reach the back door.

"To the side!" he said, pushing Don Alejandro to one side of the door. From there, he stretched his arm to open it, moving away quickly. As he expected, there was a blast. The bullet passed him by, hitting one of the men that chased them. Zorro moved fast, lashed his whip to snatch the rifle off the guard outside, and sent him flying out of the way with a mighty kick.

He whistled to Toronado, who came to the rescue at once.

"Come on, Don Alejandro! Get up!" Zorro shouted while unsheathing his sword to fight the men that came out of the house to surround them.

But that was easier said than done.

**6:07 am**

Everything was happening so fast, in a flash. Don Alejandro felt like a puppet, dragged along by his master, the fearless black-clad hero. He was just a mere spectator of the action, mesmerized by Zorro, by the way he kept his head cool, fighting so many men at once while still caring for his safety, even finding time to stop and leave his mark carved on a wall. And the worst thing? He couldn't do much to help him, other than following his instructions. Except the last one.

As Zorro said, he tried to get up the black stallion, but his back was too stiff to allow him lifting his leg high enough to reach the stirrup. Besides, Toronado was a moving target: he kept circling, nervously bumping into the attackers to keep them at bay, and Don Alejandro hung from the saddle, following him around, jumping on one foot, like on a comedy sketch. Unfortunately, hopping onto the saddle in one gracious move as he used to do in his youth was also out of the question.

"I can't!" he cried in the end, giving up.

Zorro looked at him, with what should have been disappointment in his eyes, but Don Alejandro only saw concern.

The masked bandit carried on fighting with his sword, neutralizing two more thugs, until he swapped weapons again, sheathing his sword, and ran to hop onto the saddle himself first. He offered then his left hand while lashing the whip with the right one to keep the thugs away.

Don Alejandro grabbed that gloved hand and jumped as high as he could, while Zorro pulled from his arm. They both cried in pain with the effort, but the old don still could not lift his leg high enough to climb over Toronado's rump. What he did, was kicking his rear end, sending the already hysterical horse into a frantic spin that nearly threw Zorro off the saddle. Don Alejandro bit the dust, landing on his back —the last thing he needed, as he was already pretty sore. At least, that crazy move also frightened the attackers, that moved away from that dangerous, black fury, that spun around as if possessed by the devil.

"Get up and try again!" Zorro cried, growing desperate.

Don Alejandro cursed, because he wasn't a springy teenager anymore, and his joints and back were so stiff he knew he would need a miracle to get on Toronado… a miracle, or a large barrel, like the one he had just spotted.

"The barrel!" he cried.

Zorro nodded, and got there before he did, lashing the whip to disarm a man that had drawn a pistol. Another one fired his gun, behind him, but he missed his target by far. As before, Zorro grabbed Don Alejandro's right arm and pulled to help him to climb up to the barrel on his knees. The old don managed to stand up at the top then, balancing precariously over it. From there, jumping onto Toronado's rump was much easier.

"Go, go!" Don Alejandro cried when he was up, while another bullet whizzed close by.

**6:16 am**

Zorro spurred Toronado, and the black stallion bolted forward, galloping away at top speed. When Don Alejandro held onto his waist, he couldn't help but to gasp in pain again, as he had done before with the effort of pulling him up the saddle. Hopefully, his father didn't notice.

"Don't let them get away!" yelled the kidnapper, Tomás, who had recovered from the blow and had rushed out of the house.

As much as Zorro would have liked to halt Toronado to beat the hell out him again, he ignored him and carried on galloping away.

Gosh, it had been a close call! If his father had not spotted that barrel to use it as a stepping stool, they would have been caught.

A few men came out riding from the stables, giving chase. Toronado was fast, but with the double weight he carried, he wasn't as fast as usual, and they could not get any distance ahead from their pursuers. Nonetheless, Zorro kept spurring him to get away, gritting his teeth to ignore the pain on his side.

**6:27 am**

"Felipe, slow down, I don't understand you," Mendoza said, his mind thicker than usual due to the hangover. At dawn, the soldiers were getting ready to continue searching for Don Alejandro, as the alcalde had promised the previous day they would do, although De Soto was too dizzy after that blow and he would not take part on the search himself.

Felipe used the small blackboard he had taken with him, and wrote a few words quickly with a piece of chalk.

_Don Alejandro is at the Aranda Hacienda._

"Is he? How do you now that?"

_Don Diego figured it out._

"How?"

_Don Rafael's wife née name is Aranda._

"What are you talking about? Who?"

_Dammit, this isn't working, _Felipe thought, growing desperate.

_Go to the Arandas, and send soldiers to the road to Santa Paula, please._

"Felipe, I really don't know what you are on about. Why should I send soldiers there?"

BECAUSE ROBBERS MAY STEAL DON ALEJANDRO'S RANSOM Felipe wrote down in furious capitals, losing it. After he made sure Mendoza had read that message, he erased it and wrote again quickly: DIEGO WENT TO THE ARANDA HACIENDA ALONE. PLEASE, HELP HIM.

"All right, Felipe, we'll start the search there. Lancers!"

Felipe sighed, tossed the black board away, and got back to his pinto horse. At least, _he_ would go to the Aranda Hacienda to help Diego. Well, not Diego… Zorro.

Whatever, it didn't matter. _Him_.

**6:39 am**

"Who's responsible of this fiasco?" Tomás cried, incensed crazy. "How did they get away? There's fifteen of us, and only two of them, well, one and a half, because Don Alejandro wasn't of much help, was he?!"

"Whichever way it happened, it doesn't matter: they got away, and you cannot change that fact," Luis said, trying to remain uncharacteristically calm and pragmatic. Having one visceral, crazy bastard in the team was enough. "But our men may still catch up with them."

"That man was bloody Zorro, the masked bandit everybody talks about in California! The one who, according to the legend, always gets away!"

Luis knew that it had been the case after his encounter with him at the tavern, when Zorro dogged his bullet, got away from the soldiers, and then escaped undetected from jail. But he didn't say anything about it.

"This time, he's carrying with him an old man who couldn't even get up the saddle… They'll get him, don't worry."

"I don't know if they will, but I know what I'm going to do: follow the plan, and intercept the banker from Santa Paula. Come on, we're late, they may arrive before we meet them, and then we'll have to follow plan B. And plan B is too bloody."

_Yes, better if we don't have to implement Plan B_, Luis thought, following him.


	22. Chapter 22

— **22 —**

**7:00 am **

They had been galloping for more than half an hour, and the situation had not changed: their pursuers still chased them, and they could not get away to return to the cave. Toronado was getting tired, and Zorro knew he only had one trick left to get away from them. Luckily, that spot was close by, and they could reach it quickly from there.

"Zorro, are you going where I think you are going?" Don Alejandro said, alarmed when he recognized the place.

"Yes! I can't see another way to get away from them!"

"Are you crazy?!"

"Maybe, but if you have a better suggestion, Don Alejandro, I'm all ears."

Toronado kept galloping at top speed, with the bandits giving chase. Bullets kept flying by from time to time, some wheezing too close to Don Alejandro's back for comfort.

"No, I think you're right. God helps us!"

"Hold on!" Zorro said when he spotted the canyon ahead. He tapped the horse's neck to encourage him. "Come on old boy, you can do it!"

Don Alejandro tightened his grip around Zorro's waist, hurting his side even more, but this was no time for silly complaints. Ignoring the pain, hardly able to breathe, Zorro spurred Toronado and hoped for the best, giving the horse a bit of free rein to take the jump.

The black stallion flew over the void as usual, but the landing was a close call, as he jumped shorter than ever before with the extra weight, and he nearly lost his footing at the other edge. Don Alejandro bumped onto Zorro, who banged his lower abdomen with the saddle pommel.

"Yes! Yes!" Don Alejandro cried, looking back, relieved to see the bandits had halted at the canyon's edge. "Toronado, I love you!"

"You can ease you hold now," Zorro said with a tiny, weak voice as they galloped away from the gap nobody else tried to jump.

Don Alejandro loosened his grip around Zorro's fractured ribs and let him breathe a bit better, but still, he was in so much pain he had to slow down Toronado to a slow walk to recover his breath. It hurt like hell, and the extra bash against the saddle pommel, didn't help at all.

"Zorro, why do you slow down? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but Toronado needs a break, to catch his breath," he said, shamelessly blaming the horse for his own problem, tapping the stallion's wide neck as he snorted.

"All right," the old don said, relaxing a bit. After a short while in silence, he carried on talking. "Zorro, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course." _Anything but my identity._ Knowing his father, anything could come out of his mouth right then. If he had made a connection between his sore side and Diego's, he didn't feel like answering those questions.

"Back there, why did you stop to carve a Z on the wall? How did you get time to do that, while surrounded by swords?"

Zorro laughed, but only briefly, because that extra movement of his rib cage also hurt.

"It's not due to narcissism, don't worry. I left the mark there to make sure the lancers don't miss there's something dodgy going on in there, no matter how much they try to cover it."

"That makes sense. For a moment, I thought you liked showing off too much, putting yourself at risk unnecessarily just to leave your autograph," Don Alejandro said, chuckling. "One more thing: do you know what happened to my son? Is he all right? Those bastards whacked his head and left him unconscious on the road when they kidnapped me."

"Your son is fine. The soldiers found him and brought him to the pueblo."

"Thank God for that! I was so worried about him."

"He's worried about you as well. He's been actively looking for you all day and night."

"Has he? I don't know what got into him today. He tried to grab one of the thugs' swords when they assault us, to do God knows what with it... Can you imagine? My son Diego trying to be like you, all brave and daring… It was a first, and it didn't end well for him."

Zorro smiled. Going there on his own had been totally worth it. If only he could tell his father the truth, that "coward" Diego had saved him…

Nah, he would never believe it unless he unmasked for him right then, and he wasn't keen to do that. His father could fall off the horse in shock and there wasn't a barrel on sight to get him back on...

**7:17 am**

On the way to the hacienda Aranda, Felipe spotted Zorro in the far away distance, cantering slowly. Another man rode on Toronado's rump, behind him, and that could be no other but Don Alejandro.

_He made it!_ Felipe thought, elated. He spurred his pinto horse then, heading back to the hacienda, joining the road behind the black stallion.

**7:28 am**

By the time the soldiers made it to the hacienda Aranda, only Don Emilio was there. All the thugs were gone, either to rob the money, or to chase Zorro.

"Good morning, Don Emilio," Mendoza said. "I have a search warrant to check your property. We are looking for Don Alejandro de la Vega, who was kidnapped yesterday. Can we come in?"

"Yes, of course. Have a look. I have nothing to hide," Don Emilio said, trying to be calm, stepping to a side.

The soldiers spread on the property like oil on water, searching every corner, but they could not find the old don. However, Mendoza noticed a few details, like the piece of rope hanging from a ring at the cellar, or the bullet marks inside and outside the house, and the faint smell of gunpowder still floating in the air.

"What happened here?"

_I can't believe this_, Don Emilio thought_. The bluntest tool in the box is going to play clever now._

"What do you mean? Nothing happened, as far as I know," Don Emilio said, collar-tugging, getting visibly edgy.

"I think there was a fight," Mendoza insisted.

"No, you are mistaken. No fights in here."

"Hum… and what's this?" the sergeant said, pointing at a huge Z carved on a wall with a sword.

"My nephew came visiting last week. He's only ten; he likes playing Zorro, rather enthusiastically," Don Emilio improvised.

"I see... Have you seen Don Diego de la Vega this morning?"

"No, I haven't seen Don Diego, nor I've seen Don Alejandro. Is that all, Sergeant?"

"For now, yes," Mendoza said, mounting up his horse. "Lancers, _vámonos!_"

**7:50 am**

Zorro halted Toronado at the entrance of the Hacienda de la Vega, and helped his father to dismount. Gravity was a great ally in some cases: Don Alejandro slipped down the horse's rump nicely now, without any of the previous drama to get up.

"Thank you, Zorro. How could I ever repay you?"

"There's no need to repay anything, Don Alejandro. Take care now. Stay safe. _Hasta la vista_."

Zorro again felt the urge to hug his father, but he couldn't. Instead, he turned the black stallion around and headed for the road to Santa Paula. This wasn't finished yet.


	23. Chapter 23

— **23 —**

**8:00 am**

Diego could not hug Don Alejandro as his heart desired, but the first thing Felipe did when he arrived at the hacienda shortly after his mentor left, was embracing the old don as if he hadn't seen him in years, clinging onto him, overwhelmed by the emotion to see him back home safe.

"Felipe! I'm all right, don't worry, _muchacho._ A bit rough around the edges, but I'm fine, alive and kicking," Don Alejandro said, laughing, tapping the boy's back gently. "I'm so glad to be back home. Now, tell me, where's Diego? I can't find him, he's not in his room. Is he alright?"

Felipe didn't want to get caught in a lie, but he signed, telling Don Alejandro his son was fine after that blow to the head, and that he had a couple of broken ribs.

"I was so worried about him. Zorro said he's been looking for me all day. Where is he?"

_"Looking for you,"_ Felipe signed.

"Where?"

Felipe shrugged his shoulders. If he mentioned the Aranda hacienda, the unpredictable and irascible don could try to go back there to the lion's den, to barge in with his pistols and his devoted vaqueros, that would follow him to the end of the world.

"I just realized Zorro rescued me from a hacienda, where the kidnappers kept me in a dark cellar, but with all the excitement of the getaway I still don't know which one it was," Don Alejandro said, perplexed, trying to remember. "I didn't recognize the place while I was there. Damn… I should have paid more attention."

_"Diego will be back soon. You should wait for him here,"_ Felipe signed then. _"We'll hide if the bandits come looking for you." _

If that was the case, Felipe would be busy, hiding both, Don Alejandro and Raúl, who was sill resting in the guest room. It would be a shocking revelation taking them down to the cave, but… No, better don't think about the aftermath of that unlikely event.

"Patrón! You are back!" said one of the vaqueros that was guarding the hacienda when he saw Don Alejandro in the main building. "It's so good to see you alive and well. We were so worried about you."

"Thank you, Ramiro," the old don said, shaking hands with the man.

"I'm so sorry for the state of the house, Patrón, but we didn't have the time to clean it all up yet."

"What happened?" Don Alejandro said, looking around, realizing for the first time of the broken ornaments and the general state of disarray of the house.

"The bandits raided the hacienda and destroyed everything," Asunción said, coming to see her master when she heard his voice. "Señor! I'm so glad to see you back!"

"It's good to be back, believe me, Asunción," he said, hugging the joyful cook. "You'll never know how much I missed your wonderful food last night."

"Are you hungry, Señor? Because I can prepare a breakfast feast for you in a jiffy."

María also joined them, excited to see her master. It was a celebration. Only Diego was missing.

**8.15 am **

"Bandits!" one of the guards cried when he saw the group of menacing riders galloping their way. He could not believe their bad luck, because they were very close to Los Angeles now, only half an hour more. "Stop the carriage!"

"Shit," Juan muttered, still at the driver's seat, because they were so close to the hacienda De la Vega already. When the carriage stopped, he jumped off to get the guns he had at the saddle bags.

"We could not be that lucky, could we?" the banker said, handing the driver a rifle through the window.

"They are only eight, the same number as we are. We'll make them bite the dust, Sir," said another guard, getting his guns ready.

They took positions in and around the carriage, taking cover, and waited as the riders approached them.

"Hold you fire until they are close enough. Make the most of you bullets," the banker said. Unlike the lawyer, who was frightened to death, he had a military background, and had served with Don Alejandro at the Spanish Army a long time ago; a very useful experience to keep a cool head in that kind of situation.

As the bandits got closer, they started firing their guns and rifles. Bullets flew around, hitting the carriage. One bullet hit one on the guards in the arm, another one got hit in the leg. After that first round, the banker cried:

"Fire!"

Two of the bandits got hit and fell off their horses. The rest, surrounded the carriage and engaged in a closer fight, using their swords, guns, even their fists.

"I'll be dammed… look!" Juan said after firing his second gun, that hit one of the bandits in the chest. He pointed at the group of lancers that galloped their way.

"We have to go!" Luis said from his horse, after firing his last shot, hitting one of the guards in the abdomen.

"No!" Tomás said, attacking the last guard still standing with his sword.

Luis spurred his horse and galloped away. Two of the bandits followed him.

"Come back here!" Tomás cried. The banker used his last bullet then, hitting Tomas's shoulder. He cried in pain, leaning forward, and followed the others then, giving up, just before the lancers arrived.

"Follow them!" Sepúlveda ordered. "What happened here? Are you all right?"

"No. We need to get these men to a doctor," the banker said, getting out of the carriage to help the injured guards.

**8:17 am**

After a few hours resting at his quarters, De Soto felt better. Willing to lead the search for Don Alejandro, he went downstairs.

"Mendozaaaaa!"

He got no reply. The garrison seemed unusually quiet. He walked though his burnt office to exit through the back door to the patio. Nobody was there. He got out to the plaza, that was also deserted. There, he found a small blackboard discarded on the floor, with words written in chalk:

DIEGO WENT TO THE ARANDA HACIENDA ALONE. PLEASE, HELP HIM.

"Mendozaaaaaa!" he tried again. But the sergeant wasn't there. Thanks to the blackboard, he had an idea of where he could be.

**8:20 am**

Zorro heard the gunshots. When he got closer, he saw the lancers chasing the bandits. He recognized Tomás as the kidnapper. He was getting away on a side, with no lancers chasing him. Zorro followed him, spurring Toronado to top speed. When he was close, he considered jumping on him to throw him off the saddle, but with his broken ribs, that was out of the question. He used his whip instead, wrapping it around the kidnapper's neck. When he pulled, hurting his side again, Tomás fell off the horse, hitting the ground heavily.

Zorro dismounted then and approached the fallen man. He grabbed him by the lapel with his left hand and pulled him up, hardly able to control his anger.

"Why did you mistreat Don Alejandro so badly? Tell me!"

"_Que se joda ese viejo, tanto como tú!_"

Despite his wound and hitting the ground so hard, Tomás produced a knife to attack Zorro, desperate to get away, but the masked bandit jumped back quickly to avoid the blade. Then, before the kidnapper could attack again with it, Zorro kicked the knife off his hand.

Zorro enjoyed knocking that man out with a mighty blow, breaking his nose, but that wasn't a very good idea, because he felt one of his fractured ribs crack and displace, his side hurting more than ever before.

"Shit", he muttered, stepping away from the unconscious man.

He looked around. The lancers seemed in control of the situation, capturing the rest of the bandits. More lancers headed his way then, led by Sergeant Mendoza.

"Sergeant, this is the man that kidnapped Don Alejandro and retained him at the Aranda hacienda."

"At Don Emilio Aranda hacienda? We just been there!" Mendoza said.

"Did you see my mark on the wall?"

"Yes, I did, but Don Emilio said…"

"Don't believe a word he said, Sergeant," Zorro interrupted. "These are the kidnappers, and right now they tried to rob the ransom money the banker from Santa Paula brought in. Arrest them all, and this time, please, don't let them escape from jail."

"Sí, Zorro. Never again."

"A few more bandits chased me to the canyon. They should be still around the area. But the men in charge of the band are these two," he said, pointing at Tomás and Luis.

"Don't worry, Zorro, we'll get them all," Mendoza said, dismounting his horse to have a closer look at Tomás, who was bleeding from his broken nose and shoulder, unconscious.

"I knew I could count on you, Sergeant," Zorro said, placing a grateful hand on the Sergeant's shoulder. That simple gesture put a proud and confident smile on Mendoza's face.

Zorro got on Toronado and returned to the hacienda at a slow canter, with a hand on his side. He had enough of that horrible day already and he only wanted to get home to rest.

**8:40 am**

At the cave, Diego changed is clothes for the ninth time during the last twenty-four hours, making sure he used the cravat to cover the graze on his neck, even if that piece of clothing didn't match is overall worn out, haggard look. He found his father at the kitchen with Asunción, getting a hefty breakfast and a large cup of coffee, not keen on resting yet. After what that man had been through, Diego knew it was a good sign: his injuries could not be that bad if he could eat like a horse that early in the morning.

"Father!"

Diego ran to him and embraced him with the same enthusiasm Felipe had done before.

"Diego, are you all right? Zorro told me you have a few broken ribs," Don Alejandro said, also holding him tight eagerly, but minding his side. "Son, I've been so worried about you. I thought that bastard had killed you with that blow to the head."

"No, _I _was worried about _you_. The soldiers looked for you everywhere, but they couldn't find you, and…"

They heard an insistent knock on the front door then. Father and son went together to the entrance to open it.

"Alejandro! So good to see you free," the banker said, looking equally delighted and surprised. "Does it mean we don't need this anymore?"

Juan and the remaining guard carried between them a heavy chest, struggling with its weight. They stepped into the parlour and left it on the floor, exhausted with the effort of hauling it from the carriage.

"Ismael, _viejo amigo_, I knew I could count on you!" Don Alejandro said, hugging his friend, utterly delighted. "Don't tell me you got the whole million pesos in there... How did you manage to do that on such short notice?"

"I didn't, I only got about half of that in total, in gold and coins. Asking for a million was crazy, and to be honest, an old geezer like yourself ain't worth that much."

Don Alejandro seemed to agree, laughing heartily, slapping his friend's back.

"I know, and I'm so glad at least you tried to buy me off at half the price!"

"So, what happened? How come you are free? And didn't I tell you before it's never a good idea to hit people's fists with your face?"

Don Alejandro laughed out loud again, in stitches. Diego was glad to know that, despite the ordeal, his father's sense of humour was still intact.

"Zorro rescued me, but yes, you know me: I was about to show them who's the boss."

"You are lucky to get away with only a couple of bruises, _amigo_," the banker said, serious now. "Those bandits attacked us on the way here, but the soldiers stopped them. Three on my guards got shot. They are on their way to see the doctor at the pueblo."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Come on, get in, let's have a drink and something to eat. It's been a long night," Don Alejandro said, inviting them all in to the dining room. "Asunción, we'll need more sausages, eggs, and _magdalenas, por favor_! And plenty of coffee!" he called.

_A long night, indeed_, Diego thought, only too keen to sit down and relax at last. He could leave all his explanations for later, but he knew his father would not let him get away so easily.

"_Gracias_, Juan, you did well," Diego said, tapping his back. "I knew I could count on you to bring the money."

"_De nada_, Don Diego, but if you don't need me anymore, I'll retire now."

"Yes, don't worry. Go to rest, you must be really tired. Thanks again," Diego said, following the men to the table. Time for explanations and planning for the future.


	24. Chapter 24

— **24 —**

**9:00 am**

"I think Rafael's lawyer, Alfonso Sánchez, is the brain that orchestrated all this. He was the one with all the information about the inheritance, the money, Rafael's heir…" Diego said at the library, while discussing the ins and outs of what had happened.

"Alfonso Sánchez, the lawyer from Lima in Peru?" said the lawyer from Santa Paula.

"Yes."

"He can't be… he's dead! Burglars ransacked his office and murdered him."

"How do you know that? When?" Don Alejandro said.

"He's a friend of mine, my cousin Isabel's husband. I got a letter yesterday. He died a month ago, the 5th of July."

"That's one day after he sent us that letter telling us about Rafael's death and the inheritance," Diego said. He thought the lawyer was the connection, as he seemed to know all the details, but he was mistaken. Now it looked like he was just another victim on this plot.

Raúl appeared at the door then, sporting a black eye and a very bruised jaw, the sequels of his encounter with the bandit's fists at the tavern. He was confused by the amount of people in the house.

"_Buenos días_. Excuse me, Don Diego… aaah, I think maybe I should go now."

"Who's this young man, Diego?" Don Alejandro said. Diego stood up to meet Raúl, inviting him to the table.

"This, Father, is… your cousin, Raúl de la Vega."

"Who?"

Raúl looked at Diego, surprised, and shook his head before shaking hands with the old don.

"I'm Raúl Álvarez, not De la Vega. Nice to meet you, Don Alejandro. I'm glad to see you've been freed from your captors."

"Raúl, there is something I haven't told you yet…" Diego said, hesitating, not sure how to break the news. "I didn't know of your existence until today, nor did my father. Please, tell me, how did you get that surname, Alvárez?

"It was my mother's. I never knew my father's name. She died during childbirth, and she never revealed his name to anyone," Raúl said proudly and defiantly, not ashamed in the slightest to be the son of an unmarried woman. Diego thought he had probably punched any mouth that had ever dared to call him a "bastard child", and he liked him even more for that.

"But she had one of these, didn't she?" Diego said, producing the pendant that came in the box.

"How did you get that?" Raúl said, upset, almost angry. He pulled from the chain around his neck, but his pendant wasn't missing: it was still there. They looked identical. "How…? I don't understand. What's going on?"

"This was in the parcel you delivered yesterday for my father, together with a letter from Rafael de la Vega."

"What parcel?" Don Alejandro said, also baffled by the scene. "What are you talking about?"

"In a moment, Father," Diego said, still trying to make Raúl understand first. "In that letter, Rafael de la Vega said he had an affair with one on his young servants at his colonial house in Lima, but when his wife found out about it, she made her leave the house, probably under some kind of threat —I don't know exactly, I can only guess. Rafael said they were in love, and he gave her a pendant matching this one, made with silver from his own mine, with the words _maybe tomorrow_ engraved, but she disappeared and he could only find her trace years after that. And that's when he found out she had a son. He traced that son, and… he's you, Raúl. You are my great uncle's heir."

"What?" Raúl and Don Alejandro said at the same time.

"Yes, I know it's a lot to digest. Look, here are the letters: read it for yourselves."

Don Alejandro and Raúl read the letters. Diego watched their facial expressions change as the truth sank in. Raúl finished reading first. He looked stoned by the news.

"So… this Rafael de la Vega… was my father?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't he tell me about this before? Why now?"

"He didn't know your mother was pregnant when she left. He only found out years later, and then he had to find you first, but it took him a while because you moved so much in your youth. He searched for several years, and in the end, he was already too old and sick to do the enquiries himself, so he used a private investigator. It's all there in the letter, you can't really blame him. He tried."

"My name is not in that letter. How do you know I am his son?"

"You father was very clever, he left clues in different letters to protect your identity. Through a code system, he told us that the courier bringing the parcel to us and in possession of that pendant, would be his heir."

"And that's why that man insisted it had to be me and no other delivering that parcel to you…"

"Exactly."

Don Alejandro finished reading all the letters, and looked at Raúl then, with a smile lighting up his bruised face, that somehow matched the bruises on Raúl face.

"Do you know what this means?" Don Alejandro said, grabbing the young man by the shoulders. "You _are_ my cousin. Welcome to the family, _primo Raúl_."

He hugged the young man. They both had tears of joy in their eyes.

"And you are my uncle," Diego said, enjoying the moment.

"I'm too young to be your uncle!" Raúl said, laughing, still in Don Alejandro's arms.

"You are too young for many people, Raúl," Diego said mysteriously, but the young man didn't get it. Or if he did, he didn't show it.

"I just can't believe this!" Don Alejandro said, breaking the embrace. "Totally unbelievable. Now, how do we make this official? Because this young man is entitled to Rafael's inheritance now, isn't he?"

"What inheritance?" Raúl said. He didn't have a clue how rich his father was.

"Raúl, do you recognize this place?" Diego said, showing him the map.

"Hum… Maybe… Yes, I think this could be a map of San Diego."

"That's what I thought. And do you know what is this, in here, this X mark?"

"Yes, there is a solitary, old evergreen oak in that spot, outside the pueblo. A favourite spot for lovers," he said with a cheeky smile.

"And that's where we will find the documents, signed by Rafael. Easy," Diego said, handing the map to the lawyer. "Now, if you'd excuse me, I'm really tired. It's been a long day, and my broken ribs are killing me. I'll retire to rest now."

"Yes, Zorro mentioned you got badly hurt. Go to rest, Son, you did well," his father said, giving him a much-needed hug of approval and gratitude.

"Thank you, Father. I was so worried about you. I'm sorry I couldn't find you sooner."

_Damn_, Diego thought, realizing of his blunder, but nobody, not even his father, seemed to noticed Diego didn't find him, but Zorro, and assumed it was just a manner of speaking.

"You sorted out all this mystery, Diego, and you found us a new member of the family. After this horrible experience, I'm alive and in one piece, and so you are. What else could I wish for?"

Diego addressed the lawyer and the banker then, who were quietly enjoying the scene unfold.

"Thank you for coming all the way from Santa Paula to help my father, exposing yourselves to danger. I'll be eternally grateful."

"Don't worry about it. All's well that ends well," the banker said, shaking Diego's hand, same as the lawyer.

"When I got kidnapped, we were on our way to Santa Paula to see you both, to discuss the inheritance," Don Alejandro said. "So, your journey here is not completely wasted. Now, if this young man is the new heir… how do we…?"

Diego left them talking legal matters. He really needed to rest or he could faint out of pure exhaustion.

**9:12 am **

When De Soto arrived at the Aranda hacienda, Don Emilio had collected a few things and was about to mount his horse to run away.

"Don Emilio," De Soto said at the entrance. "I want to…"

Don Emilio looked back at him and panicked. He got up the saddle and spurred his horse to get away. De Soto was caught by surprise, not expecting that kind of reaction at all. He also spurred his horse to follow the man.

"Stop! Where do you think you are going? Stop!"

Don Emilio ignored him, so the alcalde gave chase. When he eventually got near the man, he wondered how to stop him, because shooting him down was too drastic. He knew what Zorro would do in that kind of situation, but he wasn't Zorro. He would not jump off the saddle to tackle that man to the ground at full gallop as the daring bandit would do. Although… why not?

Trying to be as macho as Zorro, De Soto jumped to tackle Don Emilio, dragging him off the saddle. At that speed, they both hit the ground pretty hard. A very bad idea.

After the impact, the two men stayed on the ground for a while, complaining in pain. At least, De Soto didn't have any broken bones, unlike Don Emilio, who had fractured his arm.

"What the hell, Alcalde? Are you crazy? You broke my arm!"

"I told you to stop, didn't I?" De Soto said, standing up slowly, wiping the dust off his clothes, feeling grateful because at least he hadn't banged his head and he wasn't dizzy and nauseous again. However, he cursed to himself when he saw the horses galloping away in the distance, racing together in a crazy competition without riders. "Come on, get up. There's a long walk back to the pueblo. You can walk with a broken arm, can't you?"

_Or we could go to the hacienda de la Vega. That's much closer, and then I can find out what happened to that spineless ninny_, De Soto thought.

"Have you seen Don Diego de la Vega?"

"No! Why is everybody asking me about him?"

"But you've seen Don Alejandro…"

Don Emilio's substandard poker face could not hide his guilt. De Soto helped him up, pulling from his good arm.

"We'll have plenty of time on the way back, Señor. Start walking, and talking, please," De Soto said, pushing Don Emilio forward.

**9:41 am**

Felipe called Diego to his room, gesturing mysteriously. He opened the door for him and let him in, showing him proudly the bathtub, once again full of warm, inviting, soapy water. Diego had to smile.

"Thanks, Felipe," he said, loving the cheeky grin on Felipe's face. "It's been a long day. You should go to sleep too."

After the youngster left, Diego removed his clothes and dressings. The bruise on his side looked almost black now, nearly as dark as Zorro's clothes. He smiled again when he saw the fresh poultice Felipe had left for him in a bowl at the bedside table, ready to use.

Diego got in the bath and sank into the water, with his head submerged below the surface, holding his breath, as he had done exactly twenty-four hours ago. Then he exhaled little bubbles slowly, relaxing his sore muscles.

It had been a long day, indeed, the most intense 24 hours of his life. But he had survived, and so had his father and everyone else. That sense of accomplishment made him feel good, and proud of himself. It was a shame he could only share that thought with Felipe.

He thought about Victoria then, and how willing she was for more, so eager of his love, the same as he was. What would have happened last night if he had carried on? Things would have got out of hand and they would have made love, surely. But he had behaved like a _caballero, _like a respectable De la Vega, not like an outlaw. His father would have been proud of his self-control. He definitely was: feeling proud of himself, but… stupid at the same time.

At the tavern, he had to restrain himself, but now, in the bathtub, he could let his passion run wild. He got his head above the water, and let his idle hand reach for that old friend down there, closing his eyes, recalling once again the whole heated exchange with his _querida_.

Right then, disturbing his peace, a strong sense of _déjà vu_: the noise he was starting to dread the most, that demanding…

"Dieeeegooooooo!"

He cursed under his breath, feeling sorry for himself.

_For crying out loud, what grown up bachelor can't even wank in peace?_

Diego smiled when his father tried the handle. At least he had latched the door this time, like in his youth.

"Diego, the alcalde is here, with Don Emilio Aranda. Can you tell us what's going on?"

Diego sighed, and got under the water again, ignoring him. He would have time to explain later. Now he only wanted to relax and enjoy his quiet time in the soothing water... in peace… in silence…

"Dieeeeegooooooo!"

Maybe not.

**10:00 am**

—**THE END —**

_**A.N – Thank you all for reading and reviewing this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. **_

_**Until the next one. Cheers. **_

4


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